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On Corporate Wifehood

spingirl | 26 June, 2006 15:23

So, Scott, my dear husband, has been in middle management for the last two-and-a-half years, and during that time, I have managed to avoid involvement in most functions, for one reason or another. I missed regional conferences, golf get-togethers, you know, your basic schmoozefests. This may have been a good thing, on the whole, because schmoozing is so not my thing. Kissing ass is definitely not my thing. And for two-and-a-half years, I was lucky enough to have work conflicts that kept me from having to attend corporate functions.

Well, last week, my luck ran out. And I had to play the *dun, dun, dun* CORPORATE WIFE!!!

That's right. I, who am queen of the tactless and irreverent comment, had to spend 5 days playing Corporate Wife at a company regional conference in Florida. I'm not sure how I managed to make it out alive.

Yeah, sure, on the surface it sounds fun. Spend the day relaxing by the pool reading or out in town shopping, spend the evening drinking and hobnobbing. But there were so many perils, so many dangers, so many traps that I had to watch out for. And all of this while wearing heels!


Seriously, there were lots of perils. First, there was the matter of selecting appropriate "Corporate Wife-wear." Corporate Wife-wear should be attractive, flattering even, but not offensive, immature, or too provocative.

There went about half of my wardrobe.

Eventually, using a pair of bland khaki shorts as my base, I managed to build a wardrobe that was neither too skimpy nor too shapeless, not too young and not too old for me to wear to the conference. I found the most conservative articles of clothing I had in my closet and pieced together appropriate outfits, though, in the end, all of them had one flaw in common - a bit too much emphasis on the cleavage.

Oh well, you can't win them all.

After the wardrobe was taking care of, I had to worry about keeping my comments "appropriate." And dear god that was hard. So many opportunities that I had to bite my tongue about. So many smartass comments I had to let fade away. So many double entendres I had to pretend I didn't notice.

In short, I acted like I'd had a lobotomy.

Next, I had to master the art of making small talk. At this point, I would say I am more the grasshopper than the master of small talk. Surrounded by engineers, I had to attempt to make witty comments about power generation equipment and twitter at jokes that were nonsensical to anyone on this side of a hot gas path. By Day 5, I was ready to bang my head against the wall if I heard one more thing about power generation equipment. Either that or start a new drinking game centered around power generation terms - but I didn't think my liver could handle it.

By the time it was time to return to Virginia, I was ready. Five days of playing Corporate Wife had taken their toll on me. I needed time to rest. I needed time to relax. I needed time to act like the immature goofball that I truly am.

I have to admit, however, there was a part of me that enjoyed being a Corporate Wife. The drinking, the socializing, the drinking, the pimping of my husband. The drinking. Maybe next year, when I have to do this all over again, my skills will have increased and I will be more effortless in my husband pimping, more masterful in my small talking.

Or maybe I will just have had that lobotomy.

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