Our booth at Barrett Jackson is located adjacent to and unfortunately within smelling distance of the Famous Dave's BBQ stand http://www.famousdaves.com/
If anyone wants to find me I will be lunching there today.
It looks a bit like Detroit. My cerebellum registers cactus, sagebrush, roadrunners and retirees and its 61 degrees in January. And yet what hangs over my head fluttering like flags over a fiefdom are the banners of the kings- GM, Ford, Bentley. And they all share an anthem- VRoooooooom VRooooooooom.
It's not Kansas. It's not the Motor City. It's Desert World in Scottsdale, AZ. and the Barrett Jackson's world famous auto auction http://www.barrett-jackson.com/. Aside from the fact that ALL I care about in a car is a. that it goes and b.that I like the color (I picked up the car on Sunday and someone asked me what model I got and I said "Red".) What the HECK am I doing here- to me a Hemi is half a planet. I looked at the booth across from my company's and asked the sales person if it came in any colors besides...metal. No idea what I would use it for but gray is not my color.
But- work beckoned me here to Scottsdale so I came here to make money, for work and to make trouble- for fun and enjoyment. It's actually a hoot as I have not spent a great deal of time with the sales staff below the manager level I was now thrown in with the guys who essentially make the money that pays my salary. And they think of me as a "higher-up" One guy actually introduced me that way- "This is Melanie Nerenberg, my higher up" Made me feel like I was ON a lift- or at least 5'6" tall. Yep- to THESE guys I am "corporate" A word which means- QUICK act like you never do ANYTHING but work. I was deferred to. I was escorted. I was driven around AND practically genuflected to. It was UNBEARABLE. So I did what any self respecting corporate brat would do. I blew my cover.
The evening's gala was invitation only and silly me- I left my invitation to the $400 a head invite in my other LIFE. But smart me- being corporate- having NOT worn the long sleeved golf shirt with the company logo embroidered on it and because I look AWFUL in khakis (kind of like a bowl of butterscotch pudding with pleats) I had on a suit. And according to one of the sales staff- at least in his opinion I looked like the folks going into the gala. I made a mark on my hand with a magic marker, picked up a shawl and threw it over my suited shoulders and grabbed a plastic cup someone had left on the counter and walked up to security. It had been suggested I affect I southern accent but frankly, I couldn't hold it- I went for New Jersey with money but no class. "Excuse me Hon" I tapped a beefy girl from Security on the shoulder. "You seen my husband?" She looked at me- after all there were 4998 other folks inside besides me and my fictional husband. "No M'am" she said "Can I help you?" I waved the hand with the drink and the marker mark quickly past her- gesticulating a bit and sloshing my drink dangerously close to her nice red windbreaker for effect. "He was supposed-ta wait right HERE" "Oh" she said- "I didn't see him". "He has my PURSE" (slosh) "How'm I supposed to get IN?" (shoshity slosh)I held the drink closer and closer as I moved. I was getting dangerously close to HER and she REALLY didn't want to get hit with whatever was melting in my cup. "Why don't you go find him?" she said and lifted the velvet rope to give me entrance.
I ran past the Elvis impersonator (sheesh) Cleavage with more depth and breadth than the Grand Canyon and Mickey Dolenz doing a Monkee's set in front of the Monkee mobile and headed straight for the Barbecue station. "Pile it on" I said as I stood there- "He's on Atkins". I appeared back at the booth with food for my new found and very grateful buddies. "How did you do it?" they asked. My boss has a saying- "only the paranoid survive" I did not want to let them know I had broken the rules but was really happy INSIDE myself to know that I had. "I just asked someone nicely." I said. "Eat up guys" And they did.
More- with pics- later. :)X
It's not Kansas. It's not the Motor City. It's Desert World in Scottsdale, AZ. and the Barrett Jackson's world famous auto auction http://www.barrett-jackson.com/. Aside from the fact that ALL I care about in a car is a. that it goes and b.that I like the color (I picked up the car on Sunday and someone asked me what model I got and I said "Red".) What the HECK am I doing here- to me a Hemi is half a planet. I looked at the booth across from my company's and asked the sales person if it came in any colors besides...metal. No idea what I would use it for but gray is not my color.
But- work beckoned me here to Scottsdale so I came here to make money, for work and to make trouble- for fun and enjoyment. It's actually a hoot as I have not spent a great deal of time with the sales staff below the manager level I was now thrown in with the guys who essentially make the money that pays my salary. And they think of me as a "higher-up" One guy actually introduced me that way- "This is Melanie Nerenberg, my higher up" Made me feel like I was ON a lift- or at least 5'6" tall. Yep- to THESE guys I am "corporate" A word which means- QUICK act like you never do ANYTHING but work. I was deferred to. I was escorted. I was driven around AND practically genuflected to. It was UNBEARABLE. So I did what any self respecting corporate brat would do. I blew my cover.
The evening's gala was invitation only and silly me- I left my invitation to the $400 a head invite in my other LIFE. But smart me- being corporate- having NOT worn the long sleeved golf shirt with the company logo embroidered on it and because I look AWFUL in khakis (kind of like a bowl of butterscotch pudding with pleats) I had on a suit. And according to one of the sales staff- at least in his opinion I looked like the folks going into the gala. I made a mark on my hand with a magic marker, picked up a shawl and threw it over my suited shoulders and grabbed a plastic cup someone had left on the counter and walked up to security. It had been suggested I affect I southern accent but frankly, I couldn't hold it- I went for New Jersey with money but no class. "Excuse me Hon" I tapped a beefy girl from Security on the shoulder. "You seen my husband?" She looked at me- after all there were 4998 other folks inside besides me and my fictional husband. "No M'am" she said "Can I help you?" I waved the hand with the drink and the marker mark quickly past her- gesticulating a bit and sloshing my drink dangerously close to her nice red windbreaker for effect. "He was supposed-ta wait right HERE" "Oh" she said- "I didn't see him". "He has my PURSE" (slosh) "How'm I supposed to get IN?" (shoshity slosh)I held the drink closer and closer as I moved. I was getting dangerously close to HER and she REALLY didn't want to get hit with whatever was melting in my cup. "Why don't you go find him?" she said and lifted the velvet rope to give me entrance.
I ran past the Elvis impersonator (sheesh) Cleavage with more depth and breadth than the Grand Canyon and Mickey Dolenz doing a Monkee's set in front of the Monkee mobile and headed straight for the Barbecue station. "Pile it on" I said as I stood there- "He's on Atkins". I appeared back at the booth with food for my new found and very grateful buddies. "How did you do it?" they asked. My boss has a saying- "only the paranoid survive" I did not want to let them know I had broken the rules but was really happy INSIDE myself to know that I had. "I just asked someone nicely." I said. "Eat up guys" And they did.
More- with pics- later. :)X
1 comment:
grasshopper - you learn quickly... when you can snatch this laminated credential with attached parachute nylon lanyard from my hand you will be ready for executive vice president...
our little girl is SO resourceful : )
rock 'em, b... -k
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