Infected girls do it better

Despite my charming demeanor and pleasing scent, I'm totally persona non grata at my job. I used to have friends here, I swear, but they've all evaporated into the mists of more money and less oppression. I am forced to walk these beige corridors alone, a ghost, a sad reminder of a time when they still hired people who didn't play golf.

I'm not really bothered by this because I get along fine with everyone I need to get along with (except my sorority girl all growed up boss, but she's another series of stories) and, as far as I'm concerned, I barely work here. My actual job takes up about 5% of my brain, none of my free-time and I essentially consider it the place where I come during the day to work on freelance. Albeit the place that's also slowly stealing my soul, thickening my tongue and making me aware of shit like what it's like to see Clay Aiken live (thanks to the woman with whom I share a wall...and absolutely nothing else).

That said, though, I just had one of the single worst office experiences a guy in my position can have--the unrequited hello. I see a guy, a guy I don't hate, a guy who I've said hello to a few times and, cheerful as I am today, I say "Hey Vince." I get nothing. I get a look, but I don't get a smile, I don't even get a nod. I just get a expression that's half blank stare and half stink eye. So I shuffled away muttering to myself.

Still, that pales in comparison to the outright humiliation that I witnessed over the weekend at the show. No one can experience being totally blown off by a baby and come out of it uneffected.

I saw a woman get down on her knees and clap and twitter and screech for a baby to come to her...and the baby just ran by without even a nod. It wasn't like he was going to his mother or to Cookie Monster, either. He just wanted to slap the side of the door. I watched the woman, who really only had two paths to follow after that--she could either try even harder to please that heartless infant or she could recognize her defeat. She sighed, she stood up, dusted off her pants and headed straight for the wine table, no doubt with the knowledge that she'd be a horrible mother.

At least I can always get another job--she's going to have that barren womb forever.