I�d already decided to become an EMT or something equally unrelated to technical and business communications when I saw that CW2 was still sitting in our area and working away. I wiped my brow, knowing that the only thing I�d find there is a little nervous sweat mixed with $17 Clinque powder. If I were an EMT, I'd certainly be wiping blood and guts from my brow instead. I look quite cute in red, but I�d prefer something from Nordstrom�s to any Ebola bleed-outs from the south side of town. This is Chicago, and I�m certain those in the medical field encounter all sorts of busted-ass shit.

So I apparently still have a job. And this is a good thing.

The phone rang at 9:30 a.m. and showed it was a call transferred from the receptionist. Since my phone hardly rings and I couldn�t see the outside number, I answered it all professionally, trying to sound like I had no idea of any impending doom and gloom.

�Is this the ChicagoJo I met this weekend in Peoria?�

�Um, yes it is.�

�Hi. This is Bill. I met you on Friday night and you mentioned to my friend that you might not have a job after this morning...�

Yes, yes. I recall this scenario now.

While approaching the bar on Friday night, I noticed a guy wearing a UT hat and went over to talk with him. The choptard hadn�t ever even been to Texas, so I started making fun of him. His friends apparently thought I was pretty funny, and they hung out with me for a while.

We talked about Texas, Chicago, what a dweeb-ass that one friend was, and I mentioned that I�d likely be unemployed on Monday. One guy took particular notice and started asking some questions. I didn�t give much thought to it, merely drunkenly answering his questions about what I do and where I work. I didn�t have a business card on me, but I took his phone number and promised that I�d call to talk about a job opportunity the following week.

As they leave, his friend with the Texas hat who was excluded from much of the conversation because I kept calling him a liar and a fraud leaned in and said that if I wanted a job I really should call the guy. He�s supposedly a higher-up at a BIG company and might be able to do something about my situation.

I seriously forgot about the scenario until the 9:30 phone call, but I was able to say, �Oh yes! Bill at 555-4532!� as he laughed at my superior drunk memory.

Apparently he wants to get together and employ some nepotism if things go well. Who knows. Maybe I�ll end up giving notice to my current BIG company to go to this other BIG company.

We�ll see how much schlong I have to touch for this to happen, but it�s certainly better than scooping brains off the highway as an EMT. �