Office. Gatherings.

Office. Gathering.

Those two words should never be next to each other in the same sentence. But so many times, we go. We go for the following reasons:

1. We want the boss to see we're a team player, so we put in our appearance.
2. After a long day at "I'm Better Than You, Ltd." (or "White Guys in Ties, Inc." apologies to Crazy Aunt Purl), we really could use a cup of whiskey on the rocks or a cold Stella.
3. We would like someone -- anyone -- to see we're human and intelligent and have potential in freakin' life. That we're not the data entry department or the IT department or the HR department. We have ideas and hobbies and notions of where we'd like to go. We have a plan for where we'd like to go. That we're not stupid.

But that never happens, does it? Tonight, three beers in (two were light, okay, you teetotalers?), I realized I'd had at least two conversations in which I started talking and the person I was talking to looked away and started a new conversation with the person sitting next to them.

If any evildoers are listening, I'll let you in on a hint: That's the quickest way to let someone know -- subtly -- that you're really not interested in them as a person or what they're saying. You're shoe gunk in less than two seconds.

I wanted to scream at them, "Do you know how many publications I've written for?" and "Do you know how good I am? How promising I used to be?" But instead, I took my two bags -- one with my good Manhattan-girl sneakers in it -- and went home. No scenes. Just like a good Midwestern girl would have done.