Tuesday, November 26, 2002

Right now I am updating my sales forecast for next quarter with Lenny Kravitz wailing "Fly Away" through my cheap Canada 3000 headphones. I should hang on to these, as they could now be a collector's item, just like my Wardair tie. Lenny Kravitz I find a little cheezy, with his cliched 70s guitar riffs, but I bet a 14 year old would love it.

I chose to listen to this song because it reminds me of the time when I was working for this customer relationship management company as an inside sales rep. I picked a call off the queue, and I was instantly put on speakerphone with some startup company in Silicon Valley. There were three young men around the speakerphone, with Lenny Kravitz's "Fly Away" blaring in the background. They seemed so cool and carefree in their e-jobs, perhaps changing the way people buy transit tickets or return pop bottles with their soon-to-be-released zero-client, customer-focused solution. I remember thinking that I wanted to work in such an environment, instead of the one where I was stuck, with an English-born matronly boss, whose face had acquired the permanent scowl wrinkles on her jawline; wrinkles that are acquired only through a lifetime of mean disposition. I wished I too could fly away to southern California and take part in the revolution that promised to change everything but in reality changed very little.

The cool startup workers nonchalantly bought about $500 of software on their Amex, treating me as if I were someone who was just so out of it, so not part of whatever it was that was going on.

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