Taking one for the Team

Years ago, I was a working woman in a man's business filled with women. To be more specific, I was working in group insurance, with a partner company that provided insurance to groups of people - mainly in Unions. Amalgamated Transit, CAW, Electrical workers, Construction Workers and my personal faves The Brotherhood of Maintenance of Way (railroad guys). A couple of times a year, the head of the conglomerate, Chuck, and all the Union Leaders would meet. Normally the insurance company sent the account manager to represent the company.

Well, the account manager had moved on and there was no one in the company who knew more about the account than me - but eek eek eek - as politically incorrect as it was the company couldn't send me -cause I'm a girl. The Union boys apparently are all just that boys and there was no place for a lady like me amongst them. Someone had the brilliant idea of sending a boy - Giorgio - and sending me as his beard - insurance beard. Giorgio would do all the talking and I would would be his Cyrano. Hell, it meant a free trip - so why not!

So Giorgio and I headed off like a pair of muggins to the gorgeous St. Andrew's By the Sea. Wonderful place - lousy trip on a tiny plane. G didn't tell me that he was air sick. But he was - as noted on this trip and others to follow.

We were unable to get in to the big resort where all the important dudes were staying - but were put up in the B&B accross the street from the resort called - Pansy House. I shit you not - Pansy House. It was nice - all hardwood and doilies and quilts.

Day 1 was about play - Day 2 about work.

Day 1 - Giorgio treats all 15 delagates to golf. I sit back at the B&B and read a book. The way the world works. Let him do the schmoozing - I didn't need to put myself out!

Dinner on day 1 was to be at Archies - right on the Bay of Fundy - and aren't we lucky - its lobster season.

Now Giorgio and I walked to the restaurant and on the way divulged our most innermost secret - I hate fish and shellfish of all kinds. So does Giorgio. Whew. So, when we get there - no matter what the peer pressure of being on the waterfront - we will not eat fish. We both knew that they were the million dollar clients - this was a huge dinner - but we were principled people - we were going to stick to our guns.l

Into the kitschiest restaurant ever in the universe we walked - posture perfect fuelled by our self righteousness. It was the kind of place with plastic lobsters and crabs on the wall strung with old fishing nets. Plastic table cloths in red and white checks and wood pannelling. It was perfect for a restaurant on the Bay of anything.

Everyone was already there. And they had saved us seats - together - which is every networking professional team's nightmare - at the very end of the table. As we take our seats - the waitress places 2 beers in front of each of us and Chuck informs us both that we are already behind - and that they have taken the liberty of ordering for us. Oh great.

Giorgio looks at me and I look at him and we agree - we are going to eat what we're given - neither of us are going to have any principles - we are going to do this for our jobs - take one for the team as it were.

Out comes the starter - it is a HUGE bowl of mussels - and I think to myself -oh goodie - we are sharing the starters - those are like cake batter bowls - I can get away with not eating many. Ah - but I'd never been to the east coast before - of course they weren't for sharing. Each one of us was served a HUGE bowl of mussels - lets say 30- as a starter. I have eaten mussels before. I even liked them once. But I'd shared a bowl of a dozen mussels with 3 other people. I can handle that. But I am nothing if not a team player - and with the assistance of my beer - served 2 at a time - I managed to choke them down. The booze and the superiority I felt watching Giorgio actually gag - helped A LOT!

Out came bibs.

Oh holyshitjesuschrist - they ordered us lobster! And as I'm planning how I'm going to hide my lobster under my potatoes and peas, they set my lobster in front of me. The thing is frigging HUGE but at this point - that's no surprise is it? But, what is my lobster served with? Potatoes? Rice? Salad? Veggies? Nope - lobster and a side order of mussels. More fucking mussels. It's like serving steak with a side order of pork chops. Or lasagne with a side order of spaghetti. Its just not right. Not right and ugh.

Giorgio and I both tried and tried to eat that lobster but rather than taking one for the team it was like taking it right up the ass - over and over and over - from the team - only with gobs of melted butter attached. And let me tell you right here people, when you don't like lobster, not even butter will save it. I would have rather drank the butter straight up.

But, by stuffing some in my napkin, leaving LOTS in the claws and even spilling some on the ground I managed to make it through dinner.

Poor Giorgio barfed all night at the B&B.

Day 2 - we did the presentation for our lovely gentlemen hosts. Giorgio did the intro and sales and I filled in the little things - like FACTS. It worked and all went well.

Together Giorgio and I made a bunch of trips with those boys. I could keep up drink for drink. I could eat their steaks and smelly cheeses. Giorgio could golf and smoke cigars and I wore low cut shirts. We were a great team.

The moral of the story is - teams come in all shapes and sizes. No wait - the moral of the story is that sometimes you just have to take one for the team and suck it up. Or wait - is it that Boys will be boys? Sometimes the greater good requires that you have no principles? Or if I guy named Chuck who controls you career advancement says eat - you eat? Either way.