Five Years Ago…

It was Columbus Day weekend, and I was almost five months into my first job out of college.  An internship my senior year led to me being hired as a junior analyst for a asset management consulting firm full-time after graduation. It wasn’t thrilling work, but it allowed me to live modestly and independently. On a Friday afternoon while I was planning to visit my parents in Brooklyn, my boss George stopped at my desk and dropped an envelope with my name on it and a ticket inside of it.  He was walking away when I stopped him.  “You want to explain what this is George?”

“Oh yeah.  Go there, listen to the panel, do a write up by Tuesday.  There’s open bar after. Have a good weekend.” He walked into his office and closed the door. George was nice enough as a boss, but his communication skills left much to be desired.

I looked at the ticket, which was to the last of a series of panels of the growth of the hedge fund industry. It was guaranteed to be at least 2 hours of men worth more money than I could fathom stroke each other’s ego, but those places tended to have good food and strong drinks so I couldn’t complain. The event started at 3 and I was contemplating leaving at 2 so I could get an extra cup of coffee in when my office phone rang.

“Marlena Smith.” Only one person called me at work.

“Hey LeeLee.”  My mom had been calling me that as long as I could remember, and she didn’t think a silly thing like me being 21 was a good reason to stop.

“Hey Mum, what’s up?” I loved talking to my mom but I needed to keep this short; there was a macchiato in Midtown with my name on it.

“You must be busy.  I won’t keep you, just wondering if we’ll see you this weekend.” Her voice was hopeful, and I knew she must have missed me as much as I missed her.

“I’ll come home, but not tonight.  I have a work thing.” I started packing my things, making sure I had everything since I wouldn’t be back until after the holiday.

“Ok sweetheart, I’ll see you then. I’m proud of you Lee.  Do me a favor and find a man to bring with you!” She hung up.

As I placed the receiver back in the cradle, I thought about all the times my mom told me she was proud of me.  Being an only child, I think I placed more of a burden on myself to excel than my parents did. They were always pleased with the effort I put out, and they weren’t disappointed when I came up short. My mom was always supportive, and my dad just wanted to see us happy.  Still, I think I surprised them when I decided to work and take classes through the summer, finishing college a semester early with a dual degree in Economics and Political Science.

Now that I had graduated and started working, Mom just wanted to see me married and happy like she was.  She and my Dad were high school sweethearts, married him a week after she graduated college and had me 10 months later.  I guess happiness like that can be achieved when your husband thinks you hung the stars.

A coworker’s sneeze jolted me back to reality. I checked my watch, it was 2:15. Crap, I was going to be late. Something told me that I should have packed flats today but I didn’t, and these four-inch heels were going to slow me down. I grabbed my things and rushed out of the office.

For early October, it still felt like August. Eighty degrees and humid was not going to cut it for a walk across town.  I stuck out my hand and was grateful I didn’t have to fight anyone for a cab.  I resisted the urge to make small talk with the cab driver, instead checking work emails and updating my facebook status.  Marlena Smith can’t wait for the weekend to start. 

There was so much traffic going across town that I didn’t get to the coffee shop until 25 minutes before the discussion was supposed to start.  Of course the line was long, and there were only 2 people behind the counter.  If I didn’t know that I would fall asleep, I would have said forget it and left. Ten minutes later, I made it to the front of the line. As I’m about to order, this asshole steps right in front of me and starts talking to the cashier.

“Excuse me,” I said. “The back of the line is by the door.”

“I know, I’m really sorry, but I’m about to be late and I need to order.” He completed his order, and stepped to the side, being careful not to make eye contact with me.  If my mother hadn’t taught me not to make a scene, I would have cursed him out.   I finally stepped up to the counter, gave my order and pulled out my wallet to pay when the cashier stopped me.  “He paid for everyone in the line, don’t worry about it.” She had a dreamy look in her eye, like he was Prince Charming instead of a prick.  I snorted my disgust and walked to the other end of the counter while I waited for my espresso.

I could feel the guy looking at me, but he didn’t say anything.  My drink order came up before his did.  I got my drink and left, rushing to the hotel where the conference was going on a block away.

After hurrying through registration, I entered the conference room, looking for anyone that I might know. I gave up and sat at the seat closest to me, right on the aisle in the middle of the room.   “Is this seat taken?” A young black woman standing a few feet away came up to me, pointing to the seat next to me.  I guessed she couldn’t find anyone she knew either.  I invited her to sit down, glancing at her shoes as she put her bag down on the floor. I couldn’t resist asking her a question.

“Excuse me,” I started. “Are those the Manolo Blahnik Mary Janes?”  Her face lit up.

“They are!”  We got into a casual conversation about our shared love of shoes, good sample sales we had been to, and the best bargain we had gotten (mine was a Prada jacket for less than two hundred dollars, hers was a Chanel clutch for sixty percent off).

“So who were you looking for?” I asked as the event’s host was walking to the stage.

“My boss, he was supposed to meet me before the panel started, but I guess he’ll meet me after.  I’m Marie by the way.”

“Oh wow, I can’t believe we’ve been talking for this long and I didn’t introduce myself! I’m Lena.” We shook hands and exchanged cards, promising to make plans for coffee or lunch.

Marie was new to the city, a Howard University graduate originally from Memphis.  Her being from the South didn’t surprise me; her accent sounded like it should be served with a glass of sweet tea.   What cracked me up about her was her quick and unexpected use of the f-word. “I know what he does is time consuming, but I don’t understand the fucking need for him to call me after business hours, I have a life!” She was venting about her boss, who had her on call 24/7.  I did not envy her.

The panel moderator was walking to the podium just as Marie got a message that she needed to meet her boss. We agreed to meet at the cocktail reception after as she slipped out to the aisle.  The moderator was Carson Hughes, a British expert that looked and sounded like Pierce Brosnan.  All of the women in the audience were commanded by his presence. Carson brought out the last of the panelists, and I couldn’t believe it, it was the line-cutter.

I missed his introduction, but from the first question through to the end of the talk he dominated the conversation.  He was gracious, not cutting anyone off, but it was clear that his opinion mattered more to the audience.  An hour and a half flew by, I was so caught up in the dialogue. I was trying to look for Marie while I packed my things, but I also had a reception to hit.  The financial industry drinks like a fish and I wanted to get my cocktail before there was a huge crowd.

Vodka tonic in hand, I chose a seat near the DJ booth.  I reach for my Blackberry, but decide against it. It’s time to be social.  I take another sip of my drink and look up to Marie waving as she walked towards me.   She looked frantic. “Ohmigosh I’m sorry about this, but my boss wanted to meet you and he’s coming over right now.” I could barely open my mouth to respond when Marie had started an introduction.

“Marlena Smith, Eric McKinsey. Eric McKinsey, Marlena Smith.”   In the dim lighting, I got a good look at Eric’s face and realized that he was the asshole from the coffee shop, the commanding presence on the stage.  I could feel the blood draining from my face.  I tried to look at Marie, but she had already slinked back to the shadows.

He shook my hand, not the timid way that many men shake ladies’ hands, but firm enough to let me know he respected me. “Very nice to meet you Ms. Smith.”