I guess it's Career Week here at The Last Debate.
Today is National Administrative Professional's Day. Whee. Truly, it is lovely that the corporate world and Hallmark have progressed to the level (or, had, by 1952, when National Secretaries Day began) of awareness that admins are sufficiently under-appreciated to merit a holiday.
Mind you, this is not one of the good holidays. You know, the ones where you get to stay home and sleep in? No, no, essentially today is just like every other day, except some of us get flowers and a card. Maybe we get taken out to lunch by the boss.
I won't be around for lunch today; I'm representing the company at an event for "local business leaders" held by Basic Rights Oregon. (If you're wondering why a secretary is representing a Fortune 500 company at a lunch for "business leaders," then you must understand that in the gay world, hotness frequently (usually?) trumps or approximates accomplishment; hotness is its own status. And by hot, I mean single and under 50. I am going in the hopes of meeting an actual business leader, not just some other proxy secretary, who will want to marry me and turn me into the charity-boardmember trophy husband I was born to be.)
Personally, I am hoping no one in my department even realizes today is National Secretaries' Day. This is professional purgatory for me; I'm just hanging out earning a paycheck, paying down the student loans, trying to figure out where to go next. Give me flowers and a card when I resign and move on; don't remind me I'm still there.
Recently I sat down to lunch with a priest and shared "Worst. Date. Ever." stories. (I've been dying to write that sentence.) It was a tie, if you must know. At any rate, I related the story of the hot, jocky Jewish Columbia Law student that I had chatted with a couple of times online. We swapped pictures and agreed to meet at the Starbucks on Broadway at 111th. He walked in: perfect. Exactly my type. He smiled, looked me up and down and said, "Andy?" I smiled back and said "Yep!" He looked at me again, grimaced a little bit and said, "I'm sorry, it's not going to happen," and turned around and walked right back out. Points for honesty?
So as I was standing there, dumbstruck, wishing I could instantly transport myself home, but waiting to give him enough time to cross the street and get far enough away that I could go back to the subway without running into him, a young woman on a laptop at a nearby table said supportively, "That was ridiculous! I don't know you, but I'm sure it's his loss." But I didn't feel supported. "Don't acknowledge my humiliation!!!!" was what I was thinking.
That's kinda how I feel about Secretaries' Day.
Fortunately, the reason bosses have secretaries is because they can't remember stuff like this. So I'm probably in the clear.