22 Sep 2005

I'm A Schmoozah Loozah

Because a lot of agencies, advertisers and companies with money are doing their 2006 budgets right now, everyone wants to schmooze them with launches and media blitz things that involve booze, cute appetizers and gift bags. Due to the nature of what I do, I get invited to some of these now and again. However, I always manage to beat the glam out of these things by doing something totally uncouth.

Take the other night, for example. I only knew a small handful of people at this particular launch but since people are in a mingle-mood, it’s perfectly acceptable to chat with people you vaguely know and then get introduced to other people and chat with them, and so on. Since not everyone is comfortable making small chat with strangers, the free booze comes in real handy.

Anyway, I had just finished inhaling some mighty tasty shrimp and my second glass of wine when the person I was with excused himself to greet some la-de-da type. Now, I’m quite content to be on my own usually – but it can feel pretty darn awkward to stand in the middle of the room with a (third) glass of wine with nothing really to do (or pretend to do) as people are yapping in clusters around you. So, I decide to walk around ever so casually in the hopes of bumping into someone I know.

I’m making my way through the crowd when I hear a man say my name (my full name) very clearly (almost slowly). So I turn to the voice to see two men looking at me smiling and (gah) I have no idea who they are.

Of course, in Schmoozeland, you can never admit that, so I look at them all excited-like and am like “Hi! How are you!?!” They politely greet me as I desperately start racking my brain to figure out who they are. Finally I remember that one of them is this super flake I dealt with 2 years ago from a local theatre company. Supremely proud of myself, I start asking about the theatre.

The guy looks at me like I’m on crack. Shit. I am so wrong on who this guy is and now I’m going to have to admit it. “Sorry, you just look so much like BLAH who's a producer over at BLAH.”

“No, I'm not. Actually, I don’t think we know each other at all,” he says to the crazy lady.

“Oh. Sorry! You just seemed familiar," I say. "And actually – err, I thought you called me over, so I just assumed ...."

He gets this embarrassed look on his face, "Hah - not really. I was just asking my friend here why someone" [gesturing very obviously toward a woman nearby] "would bother bringing such a big purse to a little event like this.” I then notice the poor dear was schlepping what looked like a garbage bag with a strap under her arm.

“And I said,” his snotty-faced friend quipped, “maybe we should ask [My Full Name],” as he eyed my perfectly-fine-and-not-at-all-too-large-purse-thank-you-very-much and NAME TAG.

MOTHER FUCKERS!!

Rather than belting them right there, I ended up just giggling and trying to act all ‘happily appalled’ (“Oh, you two are EVIL!”). I shortly thereafter saw my fantastic and exciting imaginary friend waving to me from the other side of the room, so I excused myself to meet up with her.

Gah.

Naturally, these two dragonladies had taken their nametags off earlier in the evening so I can't even do my normal act-of-revenge (Googling them and placing their e-mail addresses on every spam list imaginable).

I'm so not cut out for this crap.

4 comments:

Pam 2:07 pm, September 22, 2005  

Buahah! Poor Jen. Evil men.

Anonymous,  3:13 pm, September 22, 2005  

Nasty boys. :(

dfb 3:40 pm, September 22, 2005  

i would have quietly left and returned with a litre of gasoline (it’s only a buck or two) doused the brats and burned the fuckers and the whole place down

but i never get invited anywhere

love
dfb

Jen 8:08 am, September 23, 2005  

I like the way you fantasize, dfb.

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Need words? I'm a Toronto-based freelance writer who injects great ones into blogs, websites, magazines, ads and more. So many services, one lovely Jen (with one 'n').

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