Flip Cup and First Union

Kathy, over at Mama Kat's Losin' It, has a writing gig game and I'm playin'. Tough assignment this week, but I'm up for the challenge. Or, at least, I'll try to keep your attention on MY blog with THIS post for at least.. 3 mins 30 secs..

2) Write about a joyous moment.

The year was 2001, just turned. February. We were in the midst of a "recession" (ha! Now we know what one of those is really like.) But anyway, we were calling it that. My boyfriend, for whom I had JUST moved to Greensboro, NC (we called it Greensboring, only because we were early 20s and needed more than flipcup and two bars to entertain us), got transferred to Charlotte, NC. Charlotte is a fun town. We, as a couple, decided that he should accept the transfer (as opposed to quit, and like, take over the world or something) and that I, too, would find a job in Charlotte.

Easier said than done. Apparently, when you are in your early 20s, recently graduated from college, and in a recession, they don't just hand you a job. You have to kinda sorta convince them you're great. Or smart. Or, both.

I managed to land an interview. At a bank. Downtown.

To make matters worse, once I 1) found the building downtown, and 2) arrived at the 8th floor to the cubical world, the hiring manager then led me out to the trading floor, which was a magic wondrous place I could only have seen in Wall Street (movie), or the Journal. This was a risk management job, measuring trading risk for.... oh, suffice it to say there were LOTS of numbers involved. Oodles. Statistics. Models. PhDs writing them, testing them. Data. LOTS of data. Smart, loud personalities were just outside the glass of the conference room, four and six flat-panel Bloomberg screens in front of them. Shouting to each other, tossing the football, shouting to the three phones they held.

I went inside after two initial interviews, back to Cube Land. Interviewed with a higher up. Then another higher up. If I'd gotten any higher they would have pulled out a hookah. They all smiled. I was nervous but smiled back a lot. Tried to act natural.

Then, the hiring manager took me to lunch, downstairs, in (what a early 20-something gal would call) fancy. Now I would deem it acceptable for a Valentine's dinner, but not Anniversary. With me? We sat on the patio. The sun was shining. This is how the conversation went:

Him: "So, what do you think? Do you have any reservations?"

Me: [To lunch? oh, the job.] "I don't think so. If you think I'm ready to jump in, I certainly am."

Him: [Dramatic pause. Sips water.] "Well, what were you thinking for salary?"

Me: [Seriously? Did you just say that word? I'd take anything. I'd pay you. No, wait. Don't say that.] "Ummmmm... X."

Him: "What would you say to X+5,000?"

Me: [I truly said this next thing] "I would say you're making it awfully difficult to say 'No'."

Yes, I said "awfully", and yes, that's how I phrased my inner self jumping up and down in JOY.

Joy, Joy, Joy. I had a job offer. I had a job! In my new city! With my cute boyfriend, whom I think could be the President of the United States or a Stay-at-home-dad, and do either gracefully.

I married that cute boyfriend, in 2003. Four years later, our son was born, leading to my parting shot. I'm also doing #4 in Mama Kat's game: Share the best picture from last month.