by J. J. R.
“Yes, Melanie. My conversations are legally kept under lock and key. I am happy to have this conversation with you, by the way, as a formal HR manager, or simply an unbiased, informal confidant. You decide.”
“Let’s go for confidant,” I say, and she nods in agreement. “Don’t get me wrong, I am still loving the position. I appreciate my team, I’m passionate about the work we’re doing and have found most everyone to be gracious and kind.”
“But…” she says and I feel the air seeping out of my hot air balloon a little each second.
“I don’t know how to say this, or if I should say this…” I start.
“What if I say it for you? Would that be helpful? Then you aren’t under any blame for this discussion. And again, it stays right here in this restaurant, but it may ease your mind a bit to have it come from my mouth. Does that work?”
“Um, sure. I just feel terrible for even talking about it.”
“Okay, tell me if I’m on track here. You, Melanie, are one of those rare, innocent, kind-hearted souls in the corporate world. It is what I admire most about you. You can genuinely tell if someone is of good nature right off the bat. I imagine you had a heck of a time leaving LEP because of your great friends and your team. You are loyal, but also have ambition and knew it was time for the next step? How am I doing so far?” She pauses to ask.
“Right on track. And thank you for the fine compliments,” I say and smile.
“You are welcome. So, you get up the courage to chase this big dream, the huge mothership of Allure, knowing how far it could take you. You start out, everyone is incredible, taking you under their wing, inviting you to happy hour?” She pauses and raises an eyebrow of perhaps derision?
I nod solemnly.
She continues without judgment, “Everything is great and then slowly, little idiosyncrasies start to slip out. You hear a bit of gossip, maybe see things you don’t really like. You are determined to keep to your kind heart and want very much to fit in. I’ve seen the hours you keep, so I know you’re working your tail off too. So here you are with me, starting to doubt a little. And you think, I’m earning more than I ever dreamed of, I love my team, everyone seems generally nice, so it must be me?”
“Right.” I nod again.
“Wrong,” she says firmly, looking me right in the eye. “It isn’t you, Melanie. It is this world. It is harsh, critical, vindictive and manipulative. People like you, the good souls, generally don’t fare well in a corporation as harsh as Allure. The hard part is, it isn’t just any one person, although offline, someday in the far distant future, I can tell you who I strongly believe is the culprit. It is several people. It unfortunately is our culture. I have lead offsite seminars, demanded training, reprimanded, you name it, but it doesn’t seem to break through. Until our leaders stop engaging and get firm, it is sadly the world you signed on for. Now, I hate to put a bad taste in your mouth, and I am deeply saddened that this is the experience you are having at Allure, but I can’t say I am surprised. All I can truly say, is hang in there, focus on the work and stay away from the drama. And talk to me anytime for unbiased, confidant advice.”
She takes the last bite of her sandwich and a slurp from her orange soda. “And if you find yourself wanting to get along with both sides of the political fence, by all means, do so. You are a good person, Melanie. People like you can change Allure. I have to believe that. For that is reason I’m still there.”
* * * *
Over a seventeen-year-old bottle of Merlot, I explain everything in detail to Finn that night. I’m starting to think I was so busy working hard and staying so positive about the place that I’m trying to convince Finn alongside myself. I’m overjoyed with the great week and other than the Vain situation, not much negative has happened. But I’m meeting her and Bestie to shop tomorrow, and I can’t help but feel a little nervous. Quite frankly, I feel like I’m in high school again.
It’s evident that’s the case when I say, “So you don’t think Puppet Master or Pawn will get mad if I hang out with Vain tomorrow?”
He laughs a little. “God, you sound like you’re in high school.”
“I know it’s ridiculous! But it’s like every time I think things are going perfectly, I get some kind of warning. I was only going to ask Mentor if she thought happy hour was a good idea, but she blew right past that and went into a layer I’d only feared. Up until now, I truly thought there was just a little bit of surface level drama, but for the most part almost everyone got along. Except for Vain. And if I was Switzerland like Bestie that I could just float back and forth and not offend anyone. Marketing is all about buy in. If people don’t believe in me, they don’t believe in what we are doing and support our efforts. In so many ways, I feel like I need everyone to like me for our team to succeed.” I stop to see his reaction.
“And you don’t think your work speaks for itself? I mean, look at the huge week you just had,” he replies. And I recognize in this moment, just how lucky I am. He doesn’t work in my industry, probably thinks this is all a bunch of petty drama, but yet, he stays engaged, listens and offers supportive, legitimate feedback.
“I’d like to think so, but that just isn’t the case.”
“Okay, so you want to play in the middle. And you really weren’t all that concerned about the drama on a deep level until you talked to Mentor?” He is the best.
“Exactly. It went from kind of a concern, kind of shitty, kind of confusing, to whoa, should I be worried here? Do I have to watch my back? What have I said that could be used against me? I think she used the words manipulative and harsh world. I never felt like this once at LEP.”
“But, stay with me on this, nothing has happened directly to you at this point?”
“Yes,” I say and take a sip of wine. “Good point.”
“It’s happened to Admin, Vain, and Puppet Master just kind of embarrassed you by telling Queen Bee about your little crying fit.”
“Mmm hmm.”
“So, I encourage you to live in that world, babe. Live in the world of what has actually happened, not fear or speculation. The Admin thing was unfortunate, harsh, but definitely not your fault and could have been an isolate situation. You only know bits and pieces about the Vain thing, but maybe you’ll learn more tomorrow. I’d just focus on your work and react if something happens to you, not around you.”
I lean over and smack a huge kiss on his wine-tinted lips. “Damn it, you are so cute when you are right.”
“But, I’d take the warnings. There’s obviously a reason Mentor, a very polished, professional, head of HR woman told you that today. There may be some stuff bubbling under the surface that could hinder your career or suck you in. I would take a step back and not trust anyone. Like tomorrow, if Vain and Bestie go on and on about the others, don’t chime in. Let them talk and if you feel uncomfortable, just say, ‘You know, I’m not really sure we should be talking about people like this,’ because, babe, you don’t know if they have their own agenda or not. Stay neutral and heed the warnings. That’s the only advice I can give you.”
“How did you get so damn smart? It’s like I get a therapist, lover, best friend and advisor all in one,” I say and snuggle in under his arm.
“Don’t forget, eye candy,” he says and plants a kiss on my forehead before switching on the TV, leaving me alone with my seventy-five thousand thoughts.
Heed the warning.
Sexist?
Bitch Problem:
One of the most annoying things in the world is when someone interrupts you or talks over you. It is usually the most arrogant person in the room and they have little regard for other people’s opinions or thoughts.
In agreement of Bestie joining, I have given him full permission to organize the day. He squealed like a school girl at the idea of shopping, even though he too offered a warning, “This may piss them off, you know? They hate Vain. Like hate her. You may be crossing over.”
“Don’t be silly,” I insisted. “Pup
pet Master said that she was more than fine if we are friends. Plus, don’t you think it is a bit immature to be worried about such things. I’m a grown woman and if I think Vain is nice then I shouldn’t have to justify that.”
“Convincing yourself or me?” he said with a snicker.
“I suppose a little of both.” I sighed and put my head in my hands. “But we can’t let Vain down.”
“I don’t know how this became a we so quickly, but I’m not going to say I don’t love it, love you.” He touched a fairy godmother-like finger to my forehead and agreed to organize the perfect day, if only to help Vain not look like the office floozy anymore. I’ll take what I can get.
* * * *
Bright and early, we line up in the chilly December air like little shopping elves ready to follow his lead. He is so dapper in his tweed pea coat and newsboy hat that I giggle a little when I see him. He makes even the best dressed look like a schmuck.
“Is it a requirement to look good at all times to work at Allure?” I ask.
“Obviously not,” laughs Vain. “You can clearly get away with wearing anything.
“You said it,” laughs Bestie before leaping across the street toward Bergdorf’s.
“Don’t mind him. He’s a snob about clothing. Besides being a little flashy, you have always looked good,” I say and loop an arm through Vain’s.
And then we are off. We are in what feels like hundreds of dressing rooms, flinging pleated pants, gorgeous cashmere sweaters, scarves, perfectly fitted jackets and conservative but stunning dresses every which way in the dressing room. Bestie is running frantically throughout the store grabbing smaller sizes, brighter colors, flattering styles and tossing them over the doors to our rooms like it’s his day job.
“Slow down!” I laugh as a large pile of sweaters almost knocks me out.
“Consider it cardio, sweet cheeks!” he yells back. When a dressing room attendant gives him the eye for single-handedly destroying her space, he smiles sweetly. “Don’t worry, doll, we’ll clean it up. It’s a part of my process. After all, you saw how much work we need to do when those two came in here?”
She laughs and picks up a pile of pants to fold them. He has that way about him. You love him and love to hate him at the same time. Regardless, you want to be near him
“Hey!” I holler. “I heard that! We’re supposed to be helping Vain, not me.”
“Yeah, she looks great! I asked her to help me for a reason.” Vain laughs from her dressing room before Bestie topples dresses over her from the outside.
“Keep telling yourself that, Mel. You need me, don’t deny it.”
I would argue, but I’m currently spinning around in a gorgeous navy dress with a gold metal plated belt that cinches my waist in exactly the right way.
“I see you spinning.” He slides in under the dressing room door, hand outstretched with bracelets to match. “Try these gold bangles.”
“Get out of here, you perve!” I laugh.
He shakes the bangles and I take them with a laugh. I slip them onto my wrists and let out a little sigh of appreciation.
“I told you!” he calls out and I hear the dressing attendant laugh.
* * * *
Cardio is right. I am exhausted by the time we slip out of the tenth store on 5th Avenue and head to get mimosas and, at Bestie’s insistence, light salads.
“You didn’t burn as many calories as you think. We don’t want you popping out of those gorgeous frocks before Monday.”
I hug him from behind. “I love everything. I can’t believe how talented at all of this you are. Where did you learn so much about fashion?”
“It’s in the gay handbook, precious.”
Vain and I laugh and clutch our new, stunningly flattering clothes to our chest.
“I must say,” Vain exclaims. “I didn’t know conservative could mean looking so damn good. Queen Bee and the others are always so flawlessly dressed, but it never feels like something I could wear.”
“That’s because it’s custom made for her. Every outfit. Every day. She has her own little personal designer that works for her and has her clothes made. They are made to order to suit her exact personality and body type. I swear, I bet she says give me something to show off my negative zero waist and my fierce attitude.”
“Wow, really? Custom made? How much do you think that costs?” I ask.
“More than we could ever dream. It’s okay though, she’s got more money than Trump and her husband is a VP on Wall Street.”
“Wow,” Vain and I whisper at the same time.
* * * *
Over mimosas, we all let our hair down a bit more. Our bags are neatly tucked under the tables and we all settle in for long, healthy gab fest. I can almost hear Finn whispering in my ear right now, “Heed the warning, babe. Let them talk.”
I focus on my gorgeous cocktail and colorful salad as the two jump right into talk about work.
“Vain, you are doing the right thing,” Bestie starts. “This will keep those villains off your back. If you don’t give them any ammo, they will be fresh out of reasons to judge.”
“I really hope so. But wait, why did you call them villains? I thought you were good friends with them? I thought you couldn’t stand me.”
Bestie laughs hard. “No, no, no. I just play neutral. I don’t judge them, I don’t judge you. To your faces anyway.” He laughs, and I shoot him a scornful look.
“I’m so confused. I really don’t know how to make things better, to get them to accept me again.” She sighs and moves the lettuce around on her plate.
“Can I ask why you are so desperate to? Weren’t they total bitches to you?” Bestie asks.
“Hey,” I pipe in. “Just because women are fierce in the workplace, doesn’t give you a right to call them such a sexist word. If it were a man, it would never be the case. They would be considered firm, strong, great leaders. Why is it a double standard?”
Bestie gives me the look. “Oh no you don’t, don’t go pulling me into the guy’s world. I am just as much a woman as the both of you.”
And we all break out into a champagne-drenched laugh that lasts until tears slide down our faces.
When we catch our breath, he continues, “You are on to something, Mel. It isn’t right to call them bitches. But there are a lot of men that I consider bitches too.”
“It’s pointed toward women though,” says Vain.
“When in reality, it isn’t just the women that are causing the corporate drama. It’s everyone, men included. I mean, look at Martyr. He is single-handedly responsible for hours of gossip in the lunch room. It’s everyone. Sleaze is constantly repeating things he’s heard or women he has slept with...Oh shit, sorry Vain.”
Vain waves her hand in dismissal. “Go on, it’s okay.”
“So it’s more about the Corporate Bitch, as in the bitch session. We all play a role. And the people that say, ‘I don’t play in corporate politics’ or ‘I don’t do drama’ are usually the ones leading the charge,” he finishes with a long swallow of the rest of his drink and slams it on the table. “Damn, I’m good.”
“Sounds like a good book,” Vain laughs.
“Yep, because it isn’t what Queen Bee or Puppet Master are doing to rule the coop around there, it has everything to do with the whole dynamic. And honestly, what the leaders have allowed to happen. Like Queen Bee should never be partying it up with her little clique because when we are in meetings and it becomes a shit show of someone in the Diva’s idea or someone that is outside of the Diva’s idea, she will always choose the Diva. Happy Hour gossip and bonding translates to unprofessional favoritism.”
“But aren’t we doing the same thing?” I ask. “Look at us, we are sitting around drinks, complaining about them and their unfair treatment of Vain. We aren’t any better, because who’s to say that if I’m in a meeting with you all and I have to choose a side, this little conversation or bonding will win me over? We can’t throw stones in a glass house.
”
Vain laughs. “Touché!”
“Nope!” Bestie nods at the waiter for another drink. “Completely different. We, my dear friend, are discussing the injustice. And Queen Bee is the President. When you are of that status, it is just plain wrong. It is deeply disturbing that she can’t see that!”
“So why do you join them at Happy Hour?” I ask, genuinely interested in this rationale.
“Don’t be silly, everyone knows it is better to be in the Divas than outside of them. You never want to cross them or piss them off. It’s corporate suicide.”
“Keep your enemies closer type of a thing?” I ask.
“That’s why I was so shocked you guys agreed to come. I’m already technically corporately dead, but you guys still have a chance. Why risk it on me?” Vain sighs.
I turn to her and start to speak, but Bestie starts first. “Because it isn’t right, Vain. You are a good person and the shit they’ve said about you, alienated you, it isn’t right. You deserve better.”
She blushes.
“Plus, this bitch needs a reason to shop! It is okay to call yourself a bitch right?” He laughs and I can’t help but love him, despite how completely brash he is.
It is in finishing up our last drink that we head for the door in a tumble of giggles. Our bags are suddenly too heavy for us and our cheeks are flushed. Bestie has his arm around both of our shoulders and we are a sight for sore eyes, for...Puppet Master.
She sees us long before we see her. She has stepped out of a sleek black sedan and is chattering away on her phone upon entering the restaurant. She stops suddenly as the whirlwind of drunken shoppers makes their way toward the exit. We literally run smack into her.
“Oh!” She shows teeth, but I would hardly call it a smile. “You three are the last people on earth I would expect to bump into...together.”
Bestie, being borderline belligerent and all, pulls her into a tight hug and whispers. “You miss us?”
Vain loses control of her laughter, bursting at the seams.
