Posts Tagged ‘Work’

What’s lost in your Vera Bradley?

I just sent the following e-mail to the IT guy at work.

Found the camera card! It was lost deep in the trenches of my Vera Bradley.

After I hit Send, I considered the possibility that he has no idea of what is a Vera Bradley. He’s probably scratching his head or busy jumping to conclusions.

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Because it’s not TV

One of my goals for this year is to try to be a better person. It’s a common goal, I think; many people probably set this goal or resolution each year. With that in mind, yesterday I volunteered to help a coworker carry a box of measuring tapes from one meeting room to another, down a few stairs and a ramp. After stashing the box under the table at our booth, my coworker went to move her car, which she left parked in front of the exhibit area that morning when she unloaded her car. Seconds later she stomped back into the exhibit room.

“My damn battery’s dead,” she said.

“Well, I would give you jump, but I don’t have jumper cables,” I replied. “Good thing our company pays for AAA for us!”

“Oh, I have jumper cables!” So we hunt down my car, which was parked what felt like three miles away. I cleared the junk from the front seat and she jumps in.

Both being farm girls, we assumed we could easily figure out this car-jumping thing. I popped my hood, she hers. I identified the positive and negative terminals; she could only find her positive. That’s when we called in reinforcements in the form of men.

They figured out that you can ground the other cable on a piece of metal (I think, maybe you shouldn’t try this at home), and we started exchanging battery juice.

A few minutes later, a woman casually walks by and points out I have a FLAT TIRE!

Thank goodness one of the men had a portable air compressor just chilling in his car. So once my coworker’s car turned over, they hooked up the compressor to my deflated tire and 15 minutes later I rolled away on a heavily-inflated tire. Unfortunately, my coworker had rolled into a parking spot and promptly turned off her car. Her battery hadn’t sufficiently recharged. Who knew the striking writers were still writing sitcom scripts?

Lessons learned:

1. Turn off your flashers, or at least remember to move your car after unloading it.

2. You might be able to ground jumper cables on a piece of metal under your hood. Don’t take my word for it.

3. Don’t be afraid to flirt for help.

4. Check your tires before you drive from Philadelphia to Lancaster.

5. Don’t turn off your car right after you get a jump.

A couple hours later I kicked my tire and it seemed like it was still okay. I headed for Philly and stopped half way to check my tire and purchase a portable air compressor and Fix-a-Flat. And windshield wipers because mine were a little streaky that morning.

Thank God great minds think alike. I guess they have the same goal for this year.

Small Talk

Picked up my name tag and walked into the room filled with rows of empty chairs. Women in skirts, heels and jewels. Men encased in jackets, light catching the balding spots. Me in my suit, clutching my purse, overcome with anxiety. It’s like the school cafeteria all over again. Where should I sit? There are a couple groups of people scattered throughout the room-should I join them? I decide to sit in the middle of an empty room, take my chances.

People filter in and seats are claimed on either side of me. The presentation starts and is over too quickly. The bar opens and silver lids are lifted from chafing dishes. Suited waiters make their way through the crowd, proffering beef wellington and spinach squares. I only know a couple people in the room by sight, but the one girl I worked with on a group project was immediately surrounded by a talkative group. Following the advice gleaned from Matched in Manhattan, I quickly entered the drink line and ordered the Kool Aid of wine, white zinfandel. I start chatting with the guy behind me and it’s smooth sailing from there.

 How do you deal with “networking socials?”