Jack's Work Dinners and Focus on the Food

I might get divorced after I post this, but oh well. Four people read my blog, so it’s not like this is going to make the front page of the Seattle Times. The trade-off I make for not publicizing my blog is that I have more freedom to publish my more bitchy thoughts.

Here’s the deal: I had to attend a recruiting dinner for my husband’s job this week. This is a recruiting dinner where he is trying to woo someone to work for him and I get to go along as the wife. At best, these dinners are pleasant as people are generally polite and on their best behavior.

At worst, they are a fresh slice of Hell.

As the wife, I have to be exceptionally well behaved, which generally is not a problem. Since these are recruiting dinners, I can’t openly talk about my kids or complain about Trump or bitch about how much my husband works like I could at other of his work events where I know the crowd. Because of these high expectations, I usually skip the wine course. When I drink, my tolerance for bullshit reaches zero. The last thing that Jack needs is me corking off on something to a recruit. Instead, if they have kids, I talk about schools. If they don’t have kids, I talk about neighborhoods. Five years ago, neighborhoods were a safe topic. Now, not so much given the exorbitant cost of Seattle real estate, especially close to the hospital.

Me: "Can you drop a mil or more on a house that needs $250k worth of work?"

Them: "No."

Me: "Sucks for you. You should have moved here 2008."

Just as I am expected to be on good behavior, there is an assumption that everyone else is on their best behavior, too. That is not always the case, however. Like I said, the bad dinners are horrid. I almost got divorced after one a few years ago. Jack was recruiting a woman who I will call "The University Bitch." I've dropped the university name, as it might "out" her. The likelihood of her knowing my name and reading my blog is zero, so theoretically, I can say whatever I want. But that would be mean. Nevertheless, the University Bitch and her husband were on exceptionally bad behavior. I don't expect people to kowtow to me, but I hoped they would be reasonably civil. I was seated next to this woman so I could talk to her about schools and neighborhoods. I tried to make small talk:

"Jack did his training in Chicago," I said. "We lived there for a long time."

"I considered training in Chicago," the University Bitch said "but it was too cold. I visited when it was 20 degrees outside. I am so glad I went to ---- University instead. It was so much better."

After she insulted the town where I was born and raised, she never looked at me again for the rest of the meal. Which lasted three plus fucking hours. While her husband did talk to me, everything I said was met with a case of one upsmanship. They had three kids, all of whom were born since she was a fellow.

Me: My son is on a Lego robotics team. It is really cool.

Him: My kids built a computer from scratch.

Me: What do your kids like to read?

Him: <Listed a million books until he found one my kids hadn't yet read and talked about it like I was an idiot parent whose kids were going to end up on welfare because they didn't read The Pilot and the Pirate or whatever.>

If this were a blind date, I would have left. But this wasn't a blind date--it was for my husband's job so I sat there for three hell filled hours. I started this little mantra Focus on the food, which got me through most of the meal. If the company is bad, I thought, at least the food here is something to be experienced. The only good thing that came out of the dinner was that I tasted raw oysters for the first time, a win out of what was otherwise the worst dinner experience I've ever had.

We finished eating and the meal continued to drag on. At that point, I got up to pee and didn't come back to the table for fifteen minutes. No one noticed I was gone. When Jack got up to pee, the waiter came and the rest of the table ordered dessert. I ordered bread pudding. They ordered Baked Alaska which is a ten minute spectacle where the waiter sets the ice cream on fire in the middle of the dining room.

Jack and I got back to the car at the end of the marathon meal. As soon as the door thwumped shut, I said, "That was a fresh slice of hell."

"What do you mean? I thought it was great. She is top recruit. I need to hire her," he said.

"She and her husband were both horrid," I said. "If she treats me like shit, how is she going to treat respiratory therapists and nurses?"

"They all love her," he said. "I checked with them."

"Do they really want to move to Seattle?" I asked. "I know her husband has a job that requires him to be here three days a week, but something was off about the whole thing. They never asked about schools or neighborhoods."

"The husband already knows Seattle, so he probably didn't need to ask. I really need to hire her," Jack said. "She has a specialty that no one else in the division has."

"While was developing all of these magical skills that you so badly need, I've been at home taking care of your kids," I said. "And this woman is so awesome? What does that make me? Chopped liver?"

"I really need to hire her," Jack said. "You don't understand."

I was dumbfounded. He was right. I didn't understand. It was slowly becoming clear that I perhaps had made a mistake in placing all of my eggs in this basket that was being carried by someone else who didn't care about or consider my opinion.

"If you don't want or care about my opinion, why did you invite me to dinner?" I said. He did not reply.

Jack offered the University Bitch the sun, moon and stars. She sat on the offer for a long time.

"I think she using this as leverage to get a raise or promotion where she is at now," I said.

When she came back to Jack, she told him --- University had offered her the sun, the stars, the moon and all of the planets. Jack who made another offer which was then re-upped by her current employer. Jack's offer was the best he could do.

"You were right," Jack said. "She used my job offer to get a promotion where she is working."

So after a few year hiatus/ban from these events, I am back on the circuit, much to my dismay. How do I cope? My secret again is to focus on the food. Like a zen archer, I block out most of the other stimuli and drive all my attention on the menu. I prepare days in advance, visiting the website and imaging what I might eat. I figure out how I will get there from work and meet Jack there. I usually try to remember a few facts about the person ahead of time, like their name, where they are from, and if they have kids.

The day of the event, I was happy to be at work where I could focus on other stuff and not get stressed about the dinner. Before I left for work, though, I had to decide--should I drive to work so I would have a car at dinner so I could leave early if I needed to, or should I take the bus, which is far simpler? I decide to take the bus. I figured I could hijack Jack's car to drive home and he could catch a ride with someone else.

I was dreading this event before I got there. One of the women in attendance from Jack's group openly hates me. At dinner she dropped details about my husband that I didn't even know or bother to remember, like his marathon pace time which she announced to the table. She told the group stories she heard from Jack about my daughter whom she has met only a handful of times. Why was his real wife there when this other woman could fill in?

The only non-physicians in the group of seven were me and the recruit's husband, Bert. Bert and I got along swimmingly. It was great. This dinner greatly exceeded my extremely low expections. Bert is a mental health worker with a focus on kids, which I found fascinating. He asked me about running for School Board and was genuinely interested in what I had to say.

That was when I realized why I get invited to these events--I am not there to add to the conversation or offer an opinion. I am there so I can make the other non-physician comfortable, so he or she will have one other person to relate to at the table. Sometimes it doesn't work, but other times it does.