On the Virtues of Tradition

This morning, like any other (although facing the arguably more challenging task of making a hungover, baggy-eyed face induced by the prior evening's revelry look semi-decent) I wake up to my usual routine: grab purse (which, for all intensive purposes, doubles as make-up bag and life-line, affectionately referred to by family and friends as "the prada"), sift through items to find the main essentials - concealer, powder, bronzer (in that order) - and then begin to start making myself look somewhat presentable for the work day ahead. But what instead, what do my wandering hands come across FIRST, sprinkled in rather seamlessly with the standard make-up items and other essentials? Not one, NOT two, but THREE slightly lipstick-stained, bronzer-coated business cards - from guys I met last night.

Now what, I ask myself in as obnoxiously existential a way as possible, does this all mean?!?! Glancing over the business cards, I’m fairly sure I do not recall what any of these upstanding gents looks like, save where ANY of these three alleged card exchanges occurred, so why on EARTH were they in my bag, blocking my previously undeterred finger's route to the concealer??? After a quick read of the cards, I decide to focus on the two most rampant, yet unsolved, mysteries related to the appearance of this clutter previously unknown to the depths of the prada: location and motive.

As to the first mystery, after a brief mental jog through the prior-night's events, I become fairly certain that the place of exchange occurred on the dance floor. My deduction was based on the following two points: a) This is where I had seen most of the guys in question (faces begin coming back to me) haplessly flapping for a majority of the evening, and b) where I spent the majority of the evening (except, of course, for my three bathroom stops (which OBV I attended with the ladies - a bevy of ladies, might I add, making even the trip to the bathroom a no-go-zone for dudes), four food stops (during which I can assure you I was NOT socializing because I was too engrossed in the delicioso offerings, and yes, also attended by the bevy of ladies), and one trip to the bar (given that the gorgeous waiter with the massive bottle of Moet kept refilling my glass of champagne without my even asking).

Item #1: Resolved. Place in question: Dance Floor.

Having confidently nailed down the place of exchange, I then begin to explore the second mystery: motive. If the place of exchange was, in fact, the dance floor, then I am dually certain that the exchange was not made for business purposes. To substantiate the swift deferral of this possibility, I must bring in two pieces of evidence. First, I refer to the most basic rules of science as outlined in Book Three of your Basic Science Series for the Professional Adult, entitled "Your Body, YOUR Wonderland" and specifically, to Chapter 11, entitled "Random Convulsions and Bodily Discomfort whilst attempting to discuss Work during your Social Time". I believe this excerpt sums it up quite nicely: "That is to say, when discussing matters of the work place in a social setting, one's muscles automatically begin to tighten, shortness of breath and feelings of light-headedness immediately ensue, and body begins to convulse. Victim must immediately seek refuge from any and all work conversation in order to fully regain whatever social skills he or she previously possessed. It is also important to note that some people have more social skills than others to begin with, so the effect on each person is varied. (Footnote 5201: See Einstein's Theory of Relativity, discussed in Chapter Three)."

This upsetting phenomenon, only experienced by those who have successfully completed one full year in an office (Note: Please refer to footnote 5206, which says that summer analysts, interns and first years do NOT count because they are emotionally skewed by either irrationally hating the workplace as a former/current college (also referred to in colloquial terms as "Kolledge") junkie, or irrationally loving the job/thinking there is potential to love the job at some point in the future. The footnote also explains that science has proven that this effect wears off after exactly one year in an office job. ALSO Note: footnote 1 to footnote 5206: this rule only applies to jobs in BUSINESS - i.e. other fun jobs, such as acting, fashion, professional sports, etc. do not induce this phenomenon), can ONLY be cured by aborting ALL social activity in which the victim has attempted to simultaneously engage, swiftly leave for the bathroom (the book recommends having no less than two attending ladies (p. 1202)) and splashing face with frigid water. Repeat five times, reapply make-up, return to social setting but DO NOT RESUME PRIOR CONVERSATION.

Which brings me now to my point. Even IF I had had a business discussion, while dancing, and the scientifically proven phenomenon were to have occurred, I would have certainly followed the simple guidelines (Note: due the high frequency of reported occurrences, Business training programs usually include the whole book series in the package of materials, and require that each new analyst MEMORIZE the procedure for curing the body convulsions at the scene of the crime). This, as you may recall, would have involved rushing to the bathroom with a bevy of ladies (thereby warding off more potential card-givers), going into the prada, searching for my essentials, and THEREBY stumbling upon the business cards, HAD they made their way into the purse for business purposes while simultaneously engaging in social activity. So I can thereby prove, by rules of science, that I was NOT talking about business at the time when ANY of the three business cards entered the prada.

Although laws of science have likely proven my prior point, I will offer up one more caveat mentioned in the book, bringing me to my second piece of evidence: There were NO Harvard Business school alums in the crowd to defy these simple laws of science, so once again, I could not have been discussing business with the purveyors of the business cards. (Please refer again to Book Three, Chapter 12 "People with Rare Immunity to Aforementioned Phenomenon," pages 1200-1201, holding that only the carefully seasoned HBS graduate can single-handedly socialize and discuss work at the same time. Although this is still a largely unexplained phenomenon, a few discoveries are pointing to the fact that HBS alums for YEARS have actually confused "social skills" with "networking." These terms are discussed extensively in the Glossary.).

So now that I have debunked the first, and most obvious, potential motive (that each of these gents was attempting to give me his business card for a networking or business-related purpose), I will address the second. Could any or (GASP!) ALL of these men (dare I call them such) have ACTUALLY been trying to pick me UP? Did they ACTUALLY expect me to call them at their WORK lines, or better yet, email them at work??? Even the Cosmo Rulebook, which every girl holds near and dear to her heart, spends an extensive amount of time conveying the merits of the "sexy text," yet by virtue of simply being handed the business card, even THAT option has even been eliminated! To WHAT uncharted level of the increasingly anti-chivalrous dating rigmarole has the male gender forced us into now?! Before, even sexy texts were "racy" - so now what, sexy emails - to his BLACKBERRY? Will Cosmo soon be forced to update its rulebook with a new set of guidelines for how to "Ping with Zing!"???


**Editor’s note: Please help us to continue to uncover the motive behind the rampant distribution of business cards in an apparently social setting and confront such haunting inquiries as: What do I do when I score my first business card? Is there a preferred method of disposing of such items? I am desperate for human contact, how can I somehow wake up in your predicament?