Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Lion (inadvertently) Enters The Jungle. Part One
Long and complicated story coming, and it starts at the beginning of the summer. That’s when I met The Editor. Some high-powered veteran magazine guy, between jobs and temporarily consulting at my publication. I talked to him a few times, offering to help in the eager (annoying) intern way. One day he wandered over to my beautiful corner cubicle, and we spent a few minutes enjoying the view together. (I really love my windows because they provide clear visual access into a whole variety of other offices, apartments and rooftop lounge areas, but that’s a different long and complicated story.) Pretty much the extent of our relationship.One day about two weeks into my internship, the newspaper vendor was out of the Times and The Wall Street Journal, so I picked up the Post. Turning to the media news section, I was startled to see The Editor’s name in bold. According to the article, though, he wasn’t just An Editor. He was A Star Of The Magazine Industry. A real Star, and we’d stared out my window together! The article told me all about the fabulous wonderful exciting new job he was about to start. And a little bit about how fabulous wonderful exciting The Editor himself was. (Something he’d later confirm for me, in his own words.) Annoying eager ambitious intern I am, I quickly realized that the next two days- The Editor’s last at my magazine- would be very important.
(I made up that thing about the Times and the Wall Street Journal. I like the Post. I bought it because I wanted to. Pretending to be a journalistic snob comes so naturally to me now that I have trouble turning it off, even as I write in relative anonymity. I blame it on my school.)
Those two days didn’t quite go as planned. His goodbye toast on Friday did not conclude as I’d anticipated, with him shocking the entire staff by announcing that he’d decided to bring me on his new endeavor, and that despite my lack of a college degree I’d hold the title of Little Executive. You know, because experience and education are no match for the energy, excitement and untainted imagination of the young ones. Now, while I clearly sensed him thinking those things, he managed to contain himself- to avoid sparking jealousy in the others, I’m sure- and part with a simple goodbye. Crushed, I was.
He did, however, send an e-mail. Just a few sentences, asking me to stay in touch. I am of course aware that ‘stay in touch’ is code for ‘I’d like to offer you a job, the contract is drawn up and your office furniture has been ordered, but before we sign I must convince you to accept a higher salary,’ but I played along and replied in a mature and professional manner. And then he told me he ‘liked my mind.’ (I like my mind, too. Coincidence? Perhaps not.) And then he mentioned that he was looking for ‘young talent.’
And then I fell off my chair. My imagination is highly developed. I’m quite skilled at believing whatever I want to. But influencing an outcome through my own mental powers? Or, alternatively, actually maybe being that intelligent and creative person I like to think I am? Unheard of, either one.
But I pretended. He asked for writing samples, and I sent them. He told me to write with more attitude, and I tried. I engaged in witty banter via e-mail. He asked for a link to my blog, and (against all better judgment! I know!) I gave it to him. He told me my writing was ‘sweet but harmless.’ I bristled. And then I wrote an entry about editors and how they make me horny. And he liked it. And then things got complicated…
**One may assume that, being a professed lover of editors and admittedly quite horny, I was as much interested in The Editor’s penis as I was in his potential career assistance. Not true. Perhaps, if I’d thought about it a little more, I’d have realized how that blog entry might come across to him. But I didn’t. And, if I’d thought even harder, I may have remembered that I like older men. Intelligent, funny, successful, powerful older men. Or, The Editor. And then I might have predicted where things were headed. Again… I didn’t.
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