Every spring blossoms the Annual Transportation Conference, where geeky engineers break free of their HP calculators and kiddie
soccer coaching duties. They shove their fancy mechanical pencils and titanium
pocket scales into their book bags, distanced from their hen pecking wives to
drink free flowing booze and stay up past their bedtime. But they are out of
shape for wine, women, and song instead, awkwardly palling around with other
social misfits, exchanging business cards and snazzy conference apps.
You might even remember I was the Hot Chick last year. Endless Engineering was oozing with jealously when they saw me
making out with other attending consultants. It finally brought them to the table
with an actual job offer instead of vague promises of permanent employment. Six months ago it was decided we needed to
GET SERIOUS and hire a person to drive the marketing train. It came down to two
candidates, in theory so I could get back to doing actual billable work. I
would like to point out that this goal has not reached fruition. The first was
a shy, soft spoken girl with experience in the industry; the second……was Beer
Girl. Tiny and petite with long blond
hair, permanent white tipped nails and big, big, boobs. Even though her previous background was
medical sales and Budweiser advertisements, they were smitten. Even on my best day I can’t even convince
myself I am a measly B cup. Welcome to
the itty bitty titty club.
Beer Girl came up with a scavenger game for those
of us that had to babysit the exhibitor space and entice peeps to our booth. The theme started off as the “Hunger Games”,
great, let’s kill and eat other consultants so we can get ahead. I was supposed
to say, “may the odds forever be in your favor”, but I kept fucking it up and
saying “may the force be with you.” Thus showing my age and uncoolness. Naturally
she couldn’t join us because she was too busy doing origami birds or something.
Boss 1 and 2 think she is amazing, so
clever and smart. I Googled the exact same marketing ploy, not exactly unique. Well played Beer Girl, well played.
Since we’re focused on beer, here is a recipe to
match our theme.
Crock Pot Beer Chicken
2 pounds chicken breasts
1 can or bottle beer
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon garlic powder
½ teaspoon pepper
I have one of those fancy ass grill racks but I’m
not coordinated enough to figure out how to balance on the grill top. I’m much more of a throw stuff together and
hope for the best. Combine all ingredients in crook pot and cook on high for
4-5 hours or low for 6-8 hours.
While at the conference I began receiving frantic
text messages from the cleaning woman.
She requires cold hard cash for services rendered. I’d left it smack in the middle of dining
room table, with a paperclip the same as every time. The Big Tuna bounced to the dunes five
minutes after I bolted to the conference, so no emergency backup. Please, please, please clean my house, I’m
good for the dough, I’ve faithfully paid for almost twenty years. I’ve got 12
people coming for dinner this weekend and I can’t let them see the tumbleweeds
of blond dog hair. On my drive home I called
the man expressing dismay on the missing money. In the brief moments left alone in the house,
he thoughtfully put the money in a drawer “because he didn’t think we should
leave cash lying around”. He’s lucky Kathy the Wonderful came through or there
would have been Labrador Retriever hair in the potatoes. Here’s wishing you a good week Team Tuna.
