You're not fired... you're laid off

I was on the phone with Steve. Steve is a good old friend from the University of Hawaii. We used to live across the hall from each other in Johnson Hall, the dorm nearest the engineering buildings. His room had a great view of diamond head. Today Steve lives in Seattle and works at a bank.

Linda (group secretary) came by. I tried to have her wait, but she was insistent. I asked Steve to hold. “You need to see Dave, right now. He’s in the conference room.”

“OK” I said to Linda.

“Hey Steve, I think I am about to get fired.”

“What?” has asked incredulously.

“Yeah, things have been rough at the company for a while. And I pissed off my boss, big time. He just called me into a private meeting. I’m going to get the ax.”

“No way.”

“Maybe not, we’ll see. I have to go now. I’ll call you back later.”

-------------------------------------------

I stood up, and got a head rush. My adrenaline was really pumping. I knew this was the end.

I walked into the conference room. “Are you going to fire me?”

Dave laughed and said “No, you’re not being fired.” He turned to a stack of envelopes on the table next to him and pulled one out with my name on it. “This is a layoff. If you were being fired, it would be because of the lack of work that you do, your poor results, hanging out in Lynn’s office all the time, and your generally poor attitude. No, you are being laid off because we do not have the resources to continue funding your position.”

I was being fired – this was a convenient way to do it. I sat down in a chair.

Dave looked at me and smiled. He was really enjoying this. “I’ve gone over the weekly reports, and you have only closed 2 cases in the past month. That is the lowest productivity of anyone here.”

“But you gave me all the hard cases. Remember, you started assigning me all the cases that would take a long time.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth I figured it out. Duh. Dave had set me up, really well. And I fell for it. Suddenly I felt so stupid. This was costing me my job.

I didn't blog it - I didn't think it was relevant, but at the beginning of the year (when the hatchet men came) Dave reorganized to group, and gave all the hard assignments to me and Eric - but he was feeding Eric a bunch of softballs to keep his counts up. I've got to admit, he was pretty clever about it.

I got 2 months of severance pay (which is really generous) and my final paycheck – less 8 days that I owed then for vacation days from my long vacation last year. I signed some documents which Dave pulled out of the envelope. I asked what would happen if I refused to sign. I was told that I would not get my severance check. I signed them, but didn’t really read them. One was stating that I would not sue the company for wrongful termination (surely that wouldn’t stand up in court.) Dave stuffed a copy of each one into an envelope that he gave me. He explained the termination procedures. I had one hour to clean out my desk, then I was to turn in my cardkey/badge, company phone card and credit card, laptop and all company papers. If I had anything at home I was to return it by this time tomorrow. Someone from HR would escort me until I was done.

I went back to my cube and called Steve back. “Yup. I was fired.” I said loud enough for others to hear.

“And I was there. What are you going to do now?” Steve asked.

“I am going to clean out my desk. Drive to the nearest bar, and have a drink. I don’t know… I guess I need to find a new job.”

“Bummer, dude.”

I grabbed a box and started shoving things into it. People started coming by the cube and asking what happened. I wasn’t in a mood to talk. I told them to ask Dave. I guess I was the first, but he had a stack of envelopes – there would be others. Lynn came by, “want to talk?” she asked.

“I’m going to the bar. You want to come?”

“Suddenly, I don’t feel all that motivated to work. I’ll join you.” Soon I had a group of about 10 that were all headed out early. Dave was going to have a tough time leading these guys now. There was genuine animosity toward the company.

Dave came by “Can I get your laptop now?” has asked. He was holding a form with asset numbers.

“Can I pull out some personal e-mails and contact information first?”

“Your access to the network has been suspended, your e-mail account is frozen.” I swear he was smiling. “I’m sorry, this is all company property now.”

I signed heavily, I handed him the laptop. What a bastard.

--------------------------------------------

After packing up my office, I drove myself to the local watering hole. It was about 2:30 and the place was deserted. I ordered a glass of wine, then canceled it and got a cheap bottle. Since I am now officially unemployed I guess I need to start watching the pennies.

At about 3:00 Lynn and Linda came in, a few minutes later another bunch of people. It was a somber place.

“So who else got it?” I asked

“No one” said Linda. “You were the only one in our group.”

I smiled cynically. “I guess I’m special.” I was sure Dave had a pile of folks to lay-off.

“There were about 200 total for the whole company.” Lynn informed me.

“Why did he pick me? I’m better than most of the folks left. I mean I’m not bragging, but they come to ask me about how to fix things. I take on some of the hardest cases.”

“That’s not the reason why you got fired” Lynn replied. “You threaten him. In so many ways.”

It was not a happy time, for me or anyone else. The party broke up early. Lynn paid for my bottle of wine. “I’ll take care of you” she said. She walked me to my truck and kissed me good bye – after the rest of the folks had left.

Don't know why I'm unhappy. I hated my boss, the job kinda sucked. I guess I'm just worried about getting a new job. Can't say I wasn't expecting it.

IM Chat

Lynn: where have u been?

Rich: I’m right here

I’m in my office, she’s in hers – we are sitting about 30 feet apart. I'm hanging out in her office a bit less since Dave (boss man) has been on my case about it. So we chat by IM.

Lynn: You don’t come round anymore

She’s right. I did not go over to her house this weekend, I’m sitting in her office less (because of Dave) and going over to her house less because I don't want to see Jim there, and if Jim's not there, well, it's not a real good idea to go over. The result is I've seen her a lot less than normal. Which is tough since I want to be there for her.

Rich: Yeah – been busy

Lynn: Is this cuz I wouldn’t sleep with u?

Uh, yeah, for new readers, she declined my advances but, you need to read this for it to make sense

Rich: No!
Rich: But – I know – it got weird.

Lynn: Why?

Rich: idk – the kiss – jim hit you

Lynn: I miss you

Rich: Let’s talk live – but not here
Rich: Starbucks in 5?

We met down at the local Starbucks. “Rich, you are blowing this way out of proportion.” Lynn said, laughing it off. “We had a fight. It’s not the end of the world.”

I looked at her with skepticism.

“I yelled. He yelled. We threw things. We broke things. And, yeah, in the heat of the moment he took a swing at me”

“And hit you.” I interrupted.

“Yeah – but he’s not an abusive guy. You know that. Do you really think I'm that dumb? He’s like a big puppy dog, he nips and then you need to whack him on the nose with a rolled up newspaper. And I was pissed for a while. But we get over it. We clean up the mess. And then we have make-up sex”

OH JEEZ. I did NOT need to hear that! On so many levels.

“People fight” she continued. “life isn’t always perfect. And you can’t keep it bottled up inside.” She paused “Rich, quit acting so weird. Can you come over tonight?”

“Umm”

“Please, Rich. I want things the way they used to be”

“OK.”

I gave her a hug and we went back to the office.

She is wearing her ring again.

I don't fell good about this, but she might be right. I may be be taking this out of proportion.

Surfing

Life's been pretty messed up lately.

Today I met up with an old friend and we went down to Santa Cruz and did a bit of surfing. The change of pace was nice. I did call my friend Lynn from the beach to see how she was doing. Her life's been kinda messed up, too. She seemed more cheerful than I expected her to be. Seems like she's OK. That's good.

After surfing we hosed off (literally) and stopped at the crow's nest for a beer and some girl watching.

The weather was good enough for me to go home and toss a chicken on the barbecue. My house mates helped me eat it. I drank a bottle oaky buttery california chardonnay with it.

Fat, Bald, Old, Abusive

I wrote this yesterday. I decided not to post it. It's angry and unpleasant - but, here it is:

I was feeling sorry for myself, and feeling sorry for Lynn - even if she wasn't feeling sorry for herself - last night. There was a steady drizzle falling.

I went down to Santana Row, a shopping/eating street in San Jose. Normally on a night like tonight I would grab a bottle of wine or two and head over to Lynn and Jim's house and hang out with them. Based on what happened, I didn't think that would have been was such a good idea.

I ended up at the "Left Bank" restaurant, a Disney like interpretation of the French Bistro. They have a lot of good scotches and wines by the glass. And their food is pretty damn good. I come here often, but not enough to be recognized by the staff.

You know, there are way too many beautiful young women with fat bald old guys who wear cowboy boots. Why? WTF? I have a full head of hair. I'm lean. I'm young (well, OK, I shouldn't rag on the old part, since I'm creeping up on middle-aged - but still) I'm alone. And these shits are with total babes. Is this something new? Or am I just noticing this now?

I will never understand women. What do you want?

As I was sitting there drinking my wine, I noticed this gorgeous woman come into the bar and sit down alone at a table. She ordered a glass of red wine. She did not have a ring on her left hand. I want to go over and sit with her, and buy her a drink, or a small automobile, or perhaps a condo. I decided to gather my courage - I was in a bar - perhaps some 80 proof courage would work. The barkeep was warming brandy snifters and before pouring cognac into them (good man) - that would do.

And then he came. He sat with her. They put their heads close together. She smiled. There was an intimacy. She was expecting him. He ordered a bottle of wine to share. They looked in each other's eyes. They laughed together.

Well, that would have been awkward.

He was at least 250 pounds. He had the most god awful comb-over. He was at least 55. He was a caricature of a toad.

I don't know why I'm so unhappy. I just need to go to costco, buy a forklift load of twinkies. Shave my head and wait till I get old. The babes will be climbing all over me.

It's not that I think that only the beautiful should be in love. I have nothing against toad-man in the restaurant. I'm sure he deserves his beautiful partner. I just think Jim doesn't deserve his beautiful partner. And it's skewing my view of the world.

Is my frustration showing?

I'm mad at Jim for hitting her. I'm mad at her for not leaving Jim. And - I'm a little hurt - that she'd rather have a guy who hits her than me. But, I know, it's not all about me. In fact, for now, it's not even a little about me. I'm sad that someone I love is probably going to get hurt and there's nothing that I can do about it.

P.S. If you were eating, I'm really sorry for the disturbing image. That's just gross. But I came across it an knew it was right for this post.

Sorry, readers, the next post will be happy.

Naked Hands

It’s rather odd but as a single guy I am able to spot wedding and engagement rings on women with a sort of radar. Even if they are driving in cars a couples of lanes away in traffic, if the hand is attached to a young woman I invariably spot the ring, or lack of it. I have always considered engagement and wedding rings a sort of a “no trespassing sign” – perhaps a better description is an “I’m not available” sign. Anyway, I have always tended to respect them. A ring on the left hand and I go looking elsewhere. Certainly the past few weeks have shown me the futility of falling for someone who is not available.

This morning I walked into Lynn’s office. Lynn’s hand was bare. I noticed it immediately. For new readers, Lynn is engaged to Jim and wears a pretty good sized diamond engagement ring. Well, wore.

She looked up at me and said “He hit me.”

“Jim?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m so sorry. Are you OK?”

She looked down. “I’m fine. That’s probably too much information. You didn't need to know that. I'm sorry. I deserved it... I said some things.”

“No one ever deserves that. No matter what you said.” I wondered what she said to him. Jim always did have a short fuse and he is a bit of an asshole. I don’t know why this beautiful young woman is with that fat, old, balding man. And from now on I am referring to him as the "fat, old, balding, and abusive man".

“Yeah, I did.” She said distantly.

Her phone rang, she waved me out of her cubicle and the work day started.

--------------------------------------

About an hour later I got a call. I recognized Jim’s cell on the called ID.

“Hello?” I said answering the phone.

“Rich? It’s Jim.”

“Hi.”

“I don’t know what Lynn has told you. But I need you to tell her something for me.” He was almost crying. “Tell her I’m sorry, tell her that I love her and that she is the best thing that ever happened to me.” His voice broke. “Tell her that I can’t lose her.”

“Uh, Jim, I…”

“Please!" he yelled at me, "Please. She won’t take my calls. I didn’t mean it. I just lost it. Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, I’ll tell her.”

“Thanks, man. How is she doing?”

“She’s OK. She’s not really herself, but she’s OK.”

“Tell her I’m really really sorry.”

--------------------------------------

Later in the day I relayed Jim’s messages to Lynn. I’ve never seen her roll her eyes so far back. “Do you need anything? Anything at all?” I asked her.

“No. I’ll work this out. But thanks for asking.”

“Work it out? He hit you. You have to leave.” OK, I’ll admit I’m biased, but even if she doesn’t end up with me, she needs to get out of that relationship. Now.

“I’ll work it out.” She said – very firmly.

Hope

This is not a political blog, but I'm damn glad there's a new resident in the white house.

One Day

I was googling places I want to go to today, and found this.

One day. With my love. It will be wonderful.

I Tried

(For new readers, please read this post first - or this won't make any sense at all)

Ring, Ring.

Waitress: "Hello?"

Rich: "Hi, um, I'm not sure if you remember, but last week a guy at the bar bribed you to play , uh, grab-ass with his friend..." (she cuts me off and doesn't let me explain that I'm not Maurizio, but I'm the friend)

W: "Oh, yeah, of course I remember you. Hey thanks for calling. I wasn't sure you would. "

OK, she thinks I'm Maurizio (I'm pretty sure) but what the heck let's go for it.

R: "Great, Yeah, Hey I'm glad you remember me. I was wondering if you'd like to meet me for a cup of coffee or something?"

W: "Sure." (Damn that Maurizio... I never get dates this easy) "That was really funny. I'll never forget the look on your friend's face." (she giggles) "He was so shocked."

R: (I better 'fess up now) "Oh, yeah, well, um, I'm, um, the friend, actually. I'm not Maurizio. I'm the guy with the shocked look on his face."

W: "Oh"

(Awkward silence)

R: "Are you still interested in getting together?"

W: "Um, uh, Yeah, sure." (pause, she's lying - but being polite) "Can Maurizio come, too?" (Hmmm, let's make it a 3-some)

R: "No" (whoops, that's the wrong thing to say - but I want you for myself) "I mean yes - yes, sure. Um, but there is something you should know..."

W: "What's that?"

R: "He's gay. He's a really great guy. He's a lot of fun to hang out with. But he's gay."

W: "Oh, shit. Why are all the good ones gay? I need to get out of this city."

(and what am I? Chopped liver?)

W: "You're not gay, are you?"

R: "Oh, no, no... We're just friends. I like women."

(more awkward silence)'

R: "You really don't want to see me, do you?"

W: "Well..."

R: "Hey, I understand."

W: "That Maurizio is really cute."

R: "Yeah, he gets that a lot."

W: "Are you sure he's..."

R: "Yeah. He really is gay. I mean really."

W: "That's too bad"

R: "I tell you what, we'll stop by the bar again. Me and Maurizio. We'll be sure and get your table. What days do you work?"

She told me when she's working. I told her when to expect us.

Looks like me and Maurizio need to go drinking again. We have a date with a Waitress.

Rich and Lynn's history

Alternate post title: "What the heck were you doing having a sleep over at Lynn’s house while Jim was away?"

Some of my stories about Lynn probably don't make too much sense if you don't know our history together. So for all my faithful readers here's a brief history of Lynn in my life:

I first met Lynn in the fall of 2000 at the University of Hawaii. I was getting my masters degree in Computer Science. She was in her final year getting her B.S. in computer science. She was in a couple of my graduate level courses. She is really smart and was accepted to Stanford and CalTech – but her parents were unable to afford the tuition. She ended up at UH.

We ended up studying together and found a number of shared interests – one being good wine. I had a girlfriend at the time, who would drink a glass of white zinfandel from time to time. Back then Lynn was dating a football player, huge guy, great body, good looker, but not too sophisticated. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t dating him for his stimulating intellect. His idea of a classy drink was Coors Light in an iced mug.

Both Lynn and I were living in the same apartment building near campus. We studied a lot together. We would share a bottle of good wine after studying, or go out to wine bars together from time to time. It was totally platonic. Although, I do need to admit that I did find her attractive. I think most guys would. She is, well, drop dead gorgeous. But I also thought she was out of my league and we were both involved with other people, so I never made a move. We did develop a real friendship – one that has endured for a lot of years.

She dumped football player guy, and replaced him with this older guy – who worked for a bank. He was attractive and drove a Porsche (something almost no one on campus could compete with) and seemed to me a better fit for her. She worked part time as a teller in a bank all through college. I think she dated a number of guys from the bank before football player guy.

In the spring of 2001, she graduated and moved to silicon valley to find a job. We kept in touch through e-mail and stuff.

In the spring of 2002, I graduated with my masters. I had a job lined up at a big technology company (you have heard of them) in silicon valley. When I moved up I stayed at Lynn’s place for a couple of weeks while I looked for an apartment and such. She had a small apartment and I slept on the couch. She was casually dating a guy at the time.

About a year later (September 2003) I was driving down El Camino Real, a 6 lane main drag that runs up the peninsula from Sunnyvale up to South San Francisco. A drunk driver in a big old Ford pickup truck crossed the center line and totaled the sub compact car I was driving. I remember a loud crash and flash of light. Next thing I knew, I was in an ambulance and my left arm was in excruciating pain (worse than anything I have experienced before or since).

The police towed my car from the scene of the accident to an impound lot. A couple weeks later I went to retrieve it. At the time of the accident I was going about 40. The police estimated that the truck coming the other way was doing at least 80, maybe 100. The rate of closure was between 120 and 140 MPH. The accident had ripped the front left wheel off my car and the driver’s door was gone. When I saw the car in the impound lot I realized how lucky I was to be alive. A foot further over the line and I wouldn’t be here. I ended up just signing the title over to the towing company – the towing and storage charges were more than the (now 3 wheeled) car was worth.

My left arm was shattered in the accident. The doctors came very close to amputating at the shoulder- thank god they didn't. It took several operations and a bunch of implanted hardware to fix it. Lynn picked me up from the hospital and took me to her apartment. I had no family in the area, really no one to take care of me. She took me in for a month. For the first couple of weeks I was doped up on vicodin most of the time, and was basically unable to function. For the next five months I was over at her apartment – or she was at mine - quite a bit of the time. She was dating a guy at the time. I believe that she broke up with him as a result of all the time that she was spending with me.

Looking back, that was probably the only time that we were both available, and not separated by an ocean. But I was not in any condition to do any courting. Even after I got the casts and restraints off, I was in physical therapy for 2 years with a gimpy left arm.

Before the cast was off my arm, she started an affair with a married man (yes, what a mess – I couldn’t believe that she did that). He promised her that he would divorce his wife and get together with her. I tried to tell her that this was such a bad idea. She didn’t listen. Ultimately, he did get a divorce (which surprised me). He asked Lynn to marry him (which surprised me) and she said yes (which really surprised me). It was Jim. They bought a townhouse together. One day they will be married. (Although, I do remind her that when she says “I do” she will become a step grandma!!)

Jim was around when I was recuperating from the accident, and he sort of accepted me as a fixture in Lynn’s life. Once I had the use of my arm back, I did a lot of cooking for them. Jim was a very beginner windsurfer and I taught him a lot of advanced techniques and went windsurfing with him a bunch. He was kind of a jerk, but I put up with him since Lynn was in love with him, and I felt I owed her a lot.

It was pretty common for me to spend the night at Lynn and Jim’s house on the weekends. Jim and I would go windsurfing during the day, and either Lynn or I would cook dinner. We would drink in the evening. After the accident I have been a lot more reluctant to drive after having more than one drink – so I stay put where I’m drinking. I always ask before hand if my hosts will accommodate me. I don’t get falling down or throwing up drunk, but I’m not going take the chance of plowing into someone like what happened to me.

When staying over at someone’s house, the next morning I will usually make breakfast for them. I was over at Lynn and Jim’s house so much that one of them (maybe both) started buying buttermilk and fresh oranges on nights that I was planning to be over. I would make buttermilk pancakes from scratch with fresh squeezed orange juice. The arrangement seemed to work pretty well.

Soon after getting out of my cast, I started dating Sarah – a girl from Hawaii who was living in Fremont. I fell totally in love with her. Of course, as things got more serious with Sarah, I ended up spending more time with her than over at Lynn’s – but the 4 of us would often go out socially together. Eventually, I asked Sarah to marry me during a vacation to Hawaii. On the beach – it was so romantic – if I don’t say so myself. We were engaged for about 9 months. We spent a lot of time planning a huge wedding. I worked with her mother and caterers and florists and on and on… Two days before the wedding (June ’08), Sarah called it all off and disappeared from my life. I was heartbroken. We had been together for about 4 years.

I needed a shoulder to cry on. Lynn provided that shoulder (and sometimes Maurizio did, too). I did a lot of alcohol abuse getting over Sarah. So I brought really good wines – and scotches and all manner of booze - to Jim and Lynn’s house and we drank them and I cried and they listened (hey, it's cheaper than therapy) then I would crash in their guest bedroom. It sort of got to be a routine.

Just before Christmas, after work, I stupidly put the moves on Lynn – actually I just kissed her. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I’m not sure why I decided to do it then. I’ve kissed her before – you know, like you kiss your grandmother, a peck on the cheek. I’ve given her hugs as she goes off on a vacation when I drop her at the airport. But this was (as Maurizio puts it) a "real spit swapping kinda kiss". It seemed like she wanted to be kissed, you know? (or maybe that’s just hormones talking)

Frankly, I surprised myself when I did it. I’m sure I surprised her. But she kissed back. I mean, she really did. I though we might get together. But she has since made it clear that she is staying with Jim – I guess that will remain one of life’s mysteries.

Last week, I went to visit her with the intent of drinking and eating and sleeping over. While Jim was away. I knew what I was doing. But before going over I decided that I was not going to do anything with her in Jim’s house (yeah, it’s her house, too) but that seemed wrong. Of course, I made that decision in the cold sober light of day. With a bottle of champagne down, some sexy jazz in the background and a beautiful girl in the foreground – well, she probably could have had her way with me if she wanted to. I’m weak.

With that said, it would be temping fate to repeat this. So I’m not going to. I’m going to miss hanging out with them (well her). We’ll limit things to lunches and group dinners – things that are “safe”.

2 minutes after I kissed her, I knew it was a bad idea. I knew it would muck things up.

I love her. She nursed me back to health physically and emotionally. And I love her for that. And she’s always been there to take care of me – she’s a good friend who has stuck with me through good times and bad. And I love her for that, too.

And I can’t have her.

And that sucks.

But I still have her as a friend – which is priceless.

Don’t kiss your friends.

Flying Home

Greetings from 27,000 feet. I am on a flight from Chicago to Denver. It turns out that a flight direct from Chicago to San Francisco is more than twice as expensive as one that stops in Denver. Go figure. Due to expense reductions in the office, I am on a 3 flight relay from MSP to SFO. Nothing like visiting 4 airports in one day.

It was supposed to get up to 13 today in Minneapolis - according to last night's weather guy - but, no - the high was -1. I bought myself a really nice Minnesota toque to keep the head and ears warm. Eric bought some thermal underwear. We managed not to have anything freeze off.

The trip was a good one. Eric and I were able to get the new release installed and accepted by the customer. To celebrate, we took a couple of the guys from the customer out to dinner at a very nice restaurant. Our hero, the sales engineer (local talent in the MSP office), insisted on some really good wine to go with dinner and he picked up the check. We finished with a round of single malt scotches – something impossible to pronounce, and 21 years old. I love expense account dinners. It's one of the things that makes business travel bearable.

I got e-mail from Maurizio during the trip. He wants to get together next Monday. He seems to have the love jones somethin’ bad – which makes no sense – since he is spending the weekend with Stuart. I think I'll join him, as I've got some love jones going on, too - and I can't drown my sorrows with my favorite drinking buddy. Well I can, but that wouldn't be a real good idea. I'm going to need to figure out how to resolve that.

These coach seats are much too small – but I don’t have the frequent flyer miles to upgrade on United. I really need to learn to make more money.

On this flight I did buy a round of drinks for my whole row (6 folks, it's a full plane). I had 9 remaining free drink coupons from Meg (the wonder girl from the travel department) - and they'll probably expire before I go on another United flight. But before I did that, I asked the stewardess to offer a drink to the exotic and beautiful woman seated in 11F. She did so, without comment. Damn, how come only the gay male flight attendants are concerned about who I buy drinks for? Anyway, the lady in 11F took a cognac and gave me a wave and a smile in return.

It's Freaking Cold!!

Forecast high temperature in Minneapolis today? -3 , wind chill of -25!

Yup. That's the High. Low of -10.

Not C - that's F - for Freaking cold!

I'm in Minneapolis on a business trip with my co-worker Eric, whom I don't think has ever seen anything more than a heavy frost.

Eric is dying. I brought expedition weight capiline thermal underwear. (I can't believe that I'm blogging about my underwear) But this stuff will keep you warm for over an hour when worn under a wet-suit when immersed in freezing water (which wicks hear away about 25 times faster than cold air). Even though we are only going from the car to the office or hotel, Eric is really having a hard time walking even 50 feet outside. I'm doing OK, but I forgot to bring a hat - any more than a minute or two outside and my ears will get frostbite. Eric just brought a heavy jacket.

I don't know how people live here. It's crazy.

Mile High Night-Club

Its 2:00 a.m. pacific time, and I can’t sleep in these cramped seats (I am 6’ 1’’). So I might as well blog.

Things could be worse. I did get into United’s economy plus seats (extra 5” of legroom) and Meg (the wonder girl from travel) got me a whole mess of free drink coupons.

The flight attendant just came by with the drink cart. I was sitting next to Eric at the start of the flight, but it's pretty empty so he took the open row in front of me. I noticed Eric passed on a drink. I ordered a bottle of red wine (single serving airline size)and gave the flight attendant 2 drink coupons. “...and get the guy in the front of me anything he wants.” I told the flight attendant.

The flight attendant looked at me with a shocked expression “You want to buy him a drink?”

“Uh, yeah” I really should have added “don’t you think he’s sexy?”

“Are you sure” he asked. He clearly thought I was making a serious error in judgment. I’m not sure if he thought that Eric was out of my league (or wasn’t good enough for me), or that he was offended that I might be trying to pick someone up in-flight (I think it was the former).

“Yeah, I’m sure”

The flight attendant talked to Eric for a minute. Then came back to me and said “he didn’t want anything” – sounding very relieved - and handed me back my drink coupon.

I banged on Eric’s seat. “Hey, I have free drinks from Meg,” and showed him the coupon.

“Oh cool” Eric grabbed the coupon and got a beer from the flight attendant.

Sleep Over

Last night I went to Lynn’s house for dinner. Jim was away on a business trip again and I really wanted to be with her.

I brought over some brie cheese and Italian bread and made grilled cheese sandwiches (and we're NOT talkin' Wonder bread and Velveeta). Slap some french brie between a couple slices of good crusty Italian bread. Brush the outsides with a really good olive oil and grill until golden brown and delicious on the outside and gooey and cheesy on the inside. Grilled brie cheese sammies are such wonderful comfort food. Yes, I probably will die early from a heart attack – but what good is a long life if you can’t have any grilled brie cheese sandwiches? We washed them down with a couple of bottles of Mumm’s Napa sparkling brut. There something wonderful about drinking champagne with fatty foods, the bubbles and crispness cuts through the grease. If you've never tried it - french fries and champagne - awesome combination.

With our food and drink we sat in front of the fireplace and talked about life and love.

“So why do people need to hear ‘I love you’” I asked.

“Oh, that’s easy” she replied quickly. “Because they don’t feel it. If you feel loved you don’t need to hear anything. And, if you don’t feel anything nothing that can be said can make up for it.”

“Did you ever say it and not mean it?”

“I love my house, I love my family, I love my cats” She frowned a bit “If one of my cats gets run over by a car – I get a new one, no problem.”

“That’s cynical.”

“Oh get real. If someone needs to hear something, what’s the harm in telling them? Like I said it doesn’t change anything. If they don’t feel love saying something doesn’t help them.”

“Isn’t it leading them on?”

“They want to be led on.” She said. “It gives them something to hold onto. It gives them hope.” She paused. “Sometimes hope is enough. Didn’t you ever say ‘I love you’ just to get laid?”

“No. There was only one girl that needed that and I couldn’t lead her on.”

“Let’s see, you were getting laid before this. And after?”

“Nope.”

‘What a waste, she just needed to hear it. It’s not a promise, it’s not a commitment, they’re just words.” She took a long sip of champagne. “If a guy needs to hear it, I tell him. You do more harm in denying it.”

“What happens when it ends?”

“It ends. The ends are always bad – that’s why it ends. You can’t change that. Tell them what they need to hear and get on with it.”

“Anything for a good lay?”

“I don’t have your catholic hang-ups.”

“Our Lady of perpetual guilt – the gift that keeps on giving”

It was getting late and I cleaned up and put out the embers of the fire. We walked down the hall toward the bedrooms. We stopped in front of the guest bed room (where I usually sleep). I leaned forward to her. She tilted her head up toward me. I kissed her.

She kissed back. I swear I could feel some tongue.

I leaned back and looked at her. “Where is this going?” I asked

“What ‘this’?”

“Um, the kiss, us, are we…?”

She looked away and sighed heavily. “Oh, Rich.” She sighed again. “We can’t. I’m not leaving Jim, and I’m not going to cheat on him”

Oh. Crap.

I’m sure she saw the disappointment on my face. “So… I thought… the kiss… what…?” Yeah, I’m a great conversationalist.

“Rich, you kissed me.” She's right. I've been instigating all this.

“And you kissed back.”

“Yeah, Rich. I did. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have any feelings for you. But…” And then I got the “You’re a great guy” speech. I’ll spare you. You’ve either given it or been on the receiving end of it (or you’re only 16 – go get some more life experience).

Another time… Different circumstances… If only… blah blah blah...

After her speech I took one more kiss – god she tastes delicious.
And said goodnight.
And went to the guest room.
And she went to the master bedroom.
And closed the door.

The Joys of Corporate Travel

Yes, another trip.

Minnesota in January - call it punishment.

On Tuesday Dave called me into his cube. “Rich, I need you and Eric to go do the install in Minneapolis. The customer is complaining about support and the sales engineers can’t handle this. They’re not trained on the new version and we can’t screw this one up. I need you there Monday morning. Call travel and get yourself tickets.”

I got myself a nice NW flight from SFO to MSP leaving at noon and getting in 6:20 p.m. Booked a room at the W Hotel (yeah, I like those) and got a car. I actually like the travel and a few more frequent flyer miles are always welcome. I’d usually stay a couple of extra days, but Minneapolis in January is brutal. I do have a lot of capeline that I use under a drysuit for kayaking and windsurfing so warmth should not be too much of a problem. Still, the temperature is predicted to get up to 17 degrees on Monday.

At least I’ll be away from Dave for a while.

-----

On Wednesday, Dave stopped by my cube. “Hey, Rich” he called. “I talked to travel and we need to move you from the W to the Courtyard.”

“Why?”

“I know you always like to stay at Ws, but the courtyard is half the price. We need to keep the expenses down.”

Oh well, courtyards are kinda decent hotels – things could be worse.

-----

On Thursday Dave caught me in the hallway, “Hey Rich” he called, “we needed to change your flights. You are on a United flight out at 10 p.m. through Chicago. It was 1/3rd the price of the old ticket. Sorry Guy, but this is a new travel policy – if there is any fare $100 less than your current ticket we need to switch your flights. " He smiled. I really believe that he is taking some amount of satisfaction from this.

It is actually an 11:35 p.m. flight that gets into Chicago at 5 a.m. with a connection that gets me in to Minneapolis at 8:30 a.m.

Then I need to work all day.

Hangover

I woke at 4:55 a.m. to the alarm and rolled over in pain. I stumbled to the bathroom in the dark and drank about a quart and a half of water and splashed my face. I swallowed 3 or 4 aspirin. I could still feel the effects of all that scotch.

I phoned into the Sanjay (co-worker in India) using the company phone card. Sanjay was unhappy with me that I wasn’t on video – this would get back to Dave (the boss) fast. Crap. I barely participated in the call – I didn’t have any notes with me and I was doing everything from memory, which was a bit fuzzy. Some grunts and “mmmhm”s at various places seemed to do the trick. I begged off the call as soon as I could.

It was 5:45 and still dark and wet outside. I set the alarm for 9:00 and climbed back into bed and fell instantly to sleep.

At 9:00 I awoke in much better spirits – but still feeling a mean hangover. The message light on the phone was blinking. I called down to see what it was. Maurizio was the only person that knew I was here. It turns out that there was a room service breakfast ordered for me. They brought it up quickly. It was quite good – Maurizio had made some good selections. He really knows how to take care of people.

I went downstairs checked out. I intended to pay for my room and breakfast, but Maurizio had already paid for everything. I argued with the lady at the front desk, but Maurizio had set things up so that I could not pay myself – what a nice guy. I walked back to where my car was parked – in the visitor’s lot for Maurizio’s apartment. There was no sign of him so I drove home.

I got into work a bit before 11 and Dave called me into a conference room as soon as he saw me. He spent about 15 minutes chewing my ass off for missing the video conference. I gave feeble excuses. I could not win this one. The best I could do was to try to look contrite and promise that it would not happen again. If there is a layoff anytime soon I just bumped myself to the top of the list (if I wasn’t already there) Pretty damn irresponsible of me.

I was sitting in my cube trying to clear my head.

“You look like shit.” I heard Lynn say

“Yeah, and don’t yell.” I walked over to the whiteboard and wrote “Morning meeting safety tips” across the top. Beneath this I wrote, “ 1) Keep it under 5 scotches.”

“I missed my morning meeting with Sanjay. Dave just chewed my ass off.”

She looked down. “You still have a little left.” And she laughed – an old joke from a movie.

“I was out drinking with Maurizio. He is one hurtin’ puppy.”

“I bet he is this morning.”

“Yeah, well. It was good scotch and he was buying. He is with his new honey, but there’s trouble in paradise. I’ll give you the dirt tomorrow night.”

Dinner is at Lynn’s house tomorrow night. Jim is out of town on a business trip.

I’m excited and nervous at what might (or might not) happen. She’s got me damn confused. I’d really like to be with her, but she’s made no indication that she’s leaving Jim. I don’t want to be “the other guy” - I want to be "the guy". Since “the kiss” she’s been incredibly careful to show absolutely no signs of affection toward me in front of anyone else. WTF – I’ll never understand women.

Drinking with Maurizio

“So what’s the problem?” I asked. We were at the bar at the top of the Marriott hotel in San Francisco - appropriately called "The View". It’s close to Maurizio’s apartment, and I don’t think he’ll be in any shape to drive tonight. It’s not where I would have picked to drown some sorrows; this is more of a businessman’s expense report place. But it is Maurizio’s treat so I am game.

Maurizio was staring out the window. There was a slow and steady mist falling on the huge glass panes that made up the windows of the atrium like bar. This place is very Gotham city. Lots of art deco, dimly lit and furnished with dark wood and leather. It is easy to imagine Bruce Wayne brooding in here – especially tonight with the gray swirling fog outside.

Maurizio took a deep swallow of his scotch and signed. “I’m going to lose him.”

“Love ‘em and leave ‘em, that’s what you always said. What’s different this time?”

“I think I’m in love. I mean really in love”

“That is obvious.”

“Love sucks. Did you ever need to hear it?” he asked, turning to face me. “I mean, really need to hear it?”

“No, honestly.” I paused. “There was a girl in college that needed to hear it from me, and I couldn’t lead her on. It ended badly.” I thought back to my days in the dorms and Ira (perhaps more on that later – she was wonderful and it is quite a story.) “You’ve not asked him to say ‘I love you’, have you?”

“No, no” he cleared his throat. “No. Pussy, football!” (our inside joke) he glared at the couple at the next table who were clearly engrossed in his story, “are you getting everything OK?” They turned away, embarrassed. The bar is quiet, like a library – just some gentle background chatter and soft music. It is a good place for a conversation. Perhaps this was a good place to drown your sorrows.

“Is this just because you can’t have him? Is he playing hard to get?”

“No” he said again, with less enthusiasm.

“You’ve slept with him, right?” I had just realized that he had not given me details. Maurizio is the kind of guy that shares a bit too much (TMI!!)– with me anyway.

“Yeah, but, you know, it’s not the sex. I mean, the sex is great and all, but he’s so casual about it.”

“Um, and you aren’t? You’re the king of casual sex. I thought the whole gay thing was about casual sex.”

“No, the gay thing is about what turns me on.” He said, getting cross. He ordered another round of double scotches for both of us.

“Sorry, but you’ve always been so casual in your relationships. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but you seem to have some guys for just a few weeks. Sex is grand and you move on the next one.” I finished the last of my scotch, the next one was on the way. “Seriously, I really admired, or maybe envied, that about you. You can get a new guy in a weekend if you want. I go for months, years, waiting for the girl to show up.”

“Rich, you don’t have to wait. You’re just a big chicken. And you’re looking for the epic romance where you kiss and roll in the waves like in that movie. If you want a roll in the hay you can have it, just ask.” He looked at me and paused. “I mean, take our waitress." he went on "I give you a 50/50 chance, if you would just ask her.”

“I kissed Lynn” I said out of the blue.

Maurizio’s eyes widened. “You horn dog, you. Alright. It’s about time!” He gave me a big smile, perhaps his first for the night, and patted me on the back. (Hmmm, not reading my blog, huh?) “I assume that you mean a serious slobbery wet swapping spit kind of kiss, right?” he asked. Maurizio was back, at least for the moment.

“Yeah, uh, spit swapping.” He made this really sweet thing between Lynn and me seem so gross.

He slapped me on the back again. “Way to go. Isn’t Jim going to be pissed about this?”

“Why do you think she is with him?”

“I’m guessing that he turns her on.”

“But he’s kind of a jerk.”

“Yeah, well, he is kind of a jerk. But, being a turn on and being a jerk aren’t mutually exclusive. In fact, being a huge turn-on can turn some people into jerks. And while you see jerk, she may see dominance and assertiveness – I hear women can find that attractive. A lot of people find jerkiness a turn-off, but maybe his sex appeal is good enough to overcome that. You know her better than I do, but Lynn doesn’t seem to me to be the type that would find jerkiness all that bad.”

“But Jim is old, bald, and fat. And he likes country music and wears cowboy boots. Where’s the turn-on?” I asked this with perhaps a bit too much desperation.

“Rich,” Maurizio looked exasperated. “There is no accounting for taste. Look at you, you find tits and pussies to be attractive. I can’t understand that for the life of me. Some guys like steak, some guys like chicken. She found something in him that excites her. She had to, otherwise she wouldn’t put up with him.”

“I guess” I said dejectedly.

“It’s the sex, the chemistry, the fireworks – call it what you like – but when you find it it’s wonderful. It’s the sizzle that makes life worth living. Who knows, maybe he has a 12 inch cock, or can lick his eyebrows. If he makes her happy it’s a good thing – that is, unless you want to make her happy.” He sighed. “This probably won’t end well. When did this slobbery kiss happen?”

“It was Christmas Eve. And nothings happened since.”

“Have you tried anything since?”

“Well, no. Not really.”

“What do you expect her to do, climb under your desk and blow you? Give her a reason to do something. Grab life by the balls. I can’t believe you are such a wuss.”

“I thought we were here to cheer you up, not bring me down.”

“Wait here.” He walked over to our waitress who was standing by the bar and talked closely to her for a while. She was smiling - she’ll be disappointed I thought. He returned with our scotches and a smile. He lifted his glass and said “To friendship” and clicked my glass. “Rich,” he said “I can never stay down when you are around. I love you.” He downed a hearty swallow. He had never said that to me before. Hmmm.

I truly had gotten him out of his funk. We chatted amiably through two more double scotches. He led me up to the bar on the pretense of a taste of a 30 year old armagnac that the bartender had for “friends of the bar” only. We stood there for a while and chatted with the barkeep. The armagnac was really good. The bar tab for tonight was going to cost us a fortune.

I felt slight pressure and an up and down motion on the left side of my rear end. Someone was playing grab-ass, and they were using my ass. Maurizio was on my right. I looked at him. He was holding a brandy snifter in his left hand – it wasn’t Maurizio. I shouldn’t have suspected him. I turned to my left – and saw our waitress smiling at me. She gave me a brief squeeze and turned away.

Maurizio and the bartender laughed.

“All you need to do is ask.” Maurizio chided me. He may be right.

Maurizio settled up – I protested and offered to pay my share. Maurizio refused.

We stumbled down to the street and hailed a cab – even though Maurizio’s apartment was only about 6 blocks away. I had left my truck at his apartment. Before we got in he asked me if I was OK to drive. I said “Of course not.” I had lost count, but I think I had 6 (or was it 8?) scotches and the brandy.

“Rich, I can’t have you in my house tonight.”

“Why?”

“Rich, I can’t, not tonight. Just… I can’t.” He ran back inside the Marriott. I followed. He was at the front desk, and handed the desk clerk a credit card.

“What?” I asked.

The lady handed him some papers and said “Room 2108”.

Maurizio handed me the key, and said “Stay here tonight.” He sniffed and looked down at the floor. He hugged me and said “Get yourself a room service breakfast.” And then he smiled at me. “And enjoy it with that waitress, if your dick still works. Here's her number" he handed me a card with her number written on it (damn Maurizio, how does he do that?). He turned and walked out briskly.

I went up stairs and sat on the bed in the dark and stared at the rain falling on the window. I thought about Sarah, and Lynn, and Jim, and Maurizio. And then I remembered – I have a 5:00 a.m. video conference. Normally on Tuesday night I would not have gone drinking, but Maurizio needed me.

I couldn’t afford to miss this meeting – we skipped it last week because of the holidays. I didn’t want to give Dave any more ammunition. But, crap, it was 1 a.m. I’d still be drunk before I needed to drive down to Sunnyvale. I decided to phone it in, and set the alarm for 4:55.

Worst Hangover...

... since college

I'll write more when I get into the office (hey, I wasn't planning on working).

The Ax Men

I came into work late this morning. It turned out just in time to make a mandatory company meeting at 10:00. I didn’t have time to speculate on what was going on.

We all shuffled into the cafeteria/auditorium on the first floor. Everyone was wondering what was up. Rumors were running rampant. The company president introduced 2 guys who were now going to be running this division. (Editor’s note: Since I need to keep this anonymous, and these guys are pretty famous and I work for a publicly traded company - I am going to call them H. and K. - OK I'm just too lazy to make up names for them now - and I don't think they'll be in my life too much longer) H. and K. gave us some background on themselves. They said that they were silicon valley turn-around experts, and talked about the plans that they have for us. They painted a really optimistic picture of what we can expect from them and how our lives – professionally and personally – will be better once they are in charge. This was really slickly done and reassuring. I’m guessing this was not the first time they have done this.

After we went back to our offices, some quick googling on these guys showed that these guys usually leave wreckage and devastation in their wake – for the employees, anyway. They usually try to extract “shareholder value” for the parent company or owners of the company as they try to turn the business around. It usually results in a lot of layoffs, breaking up divisions and selling off parts of them, asset sales, shorter vacations, pay cuts, salary freezes, outsourcing, you get the idea. One blog called these guys “The Ax Men”.

K. just really looks sinister to me.

I spent most of the day in Lynn’s office, with lots of folks stopping by and wondering what’s next. A bunch of us went out for a late lunch to our favorite watering hole (or, really early cocktails) and had a liquid lunch.

Whatever their intentions, good old H. and K. have shot productivity to hell.

New Year's resolution: new job.

Happy New Year

It is my practice to greet the New Year in a quite contemplative way. I chilled a bottle of Mumms Champagne (cordon rouge brut) and sat in the back yard, alone, greeting the New Year in my bathrobe (Hef style) with a check for $1,000,000 in my pocket.

Well, OK, the check was written by me, to me, and it would bounce terribly if I tried to cash it. One day it won’t.

There was what sounded like gunfire and a few bottle rockets that went off at midnight. I finished the last of my champagne and turned in at about 12:30.

2008 was not the best year for me - left at the altar, lost a really great girl, lost a really good job throwing a tantrum.

But that's all in the past.

May 2009 be a good year for us all.