I heard the phone slam down in the boss’ office across the hall. “Slagel’s hinging!” he bellowed. “Shit!” After the sound of his fist pounding his desk one, big time, I heard the sound of his frenzied typing, then I heard his rushed footsteps coming my way. I cringed.
The door frame of my office filled with him. He pointed at me, shouted, “You!” Then he leaned out the door to holler at the admin, “I need you to book Wondergirl in here, on the next flight to Chicago. I’ve sent you all the details via e-mail. Do it yesterday, pleazzze! “
He leaned back into my office, pointed at me again, bellowed again, the wind of him swaying me like a reed, “Check your e-mail now! “
I swayed back. “Already did, Tony,” I said.
“Already did, Tony.”
“Read it on the way. You’re going straight to the airport. You’ll stay in Chicago and hold Slagel’s hand until he comes around, however long that takes. Expense any clothes and sundries you buy there. Got it?”
“I do, Tony,” I said, stuffing the last of the files and laptop cords and batteries and all into the laptop case.
“We need this account, Lyn,” he said.
“I’m on it,” I said. I swung the laptop over my shoulder, grabbed my purse, and extended my hand.
“Well alright,” he said, pleased. He gave me a firm handshake and patted my shoulder.
I gave him a wink and headed out the door.
I sat in the back of the cab on the way to the airport wondering if this might be similar to birth. You’re lounging peacefully in Nothingness, when some higher being blusters in and shouts, “Alright, you’re up next! C’mon, c’mon, c’mon! Get a move on! No, there’s no time to pack clothes! You’re up next, you’re on, now! ” And you pop out in Chicago, or wherever, naked and pissed.
You’re slimy, with nothing, no idea how you got here or where you’re going. Pretty soon some tall people fill you in on all that and then some (they sure do have some weird ideas). But you trust them. They’re older than dirt, they must have a clue. You go to school. You’re sitting in a puddle of angst when the tall people bluster in and shout, “What are you going to do with your life?”
This is when you realize they don’t have all the answers.
“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon! Decide!”
This is when you realize, neither do you.
This is when you begin to learn to fake it.
Soon, you solidify the fake and learn to add a wink to it.
Et voila! It’s like you really do know what you’re doing.