The Power of the Ribbon

Last night, I attended an Alumni Association function. This was not because I long for the company of once fellow students, but because I weaseled my way into the inner sanctum of the Alumni Association for reasons I can't recall. Now, not only am I supposed to attend these events, but I'm supposed to actually be sociable at them, as opposed to hiding under the sink in the bathroom with the cheese tray and a sixer of Dr. Pepper as I ordinarily would do. Usually it's not an issue if the event is fun, but I found last night to be lacking. It was a networking event for alums, where we were supposed to meet lots of new people in order to bestow/receive million dollar jobs offers, which traditionally include the use of a butler and the company-owned hover craft.

I'm not very good at networking. Whenever I have to speak with someone and I have a secret purpose in mind, I end up sputtering and panting like a Guatemalan luxury vehicle. It'd be completely possible for me to go on a job interview and end up hogtied in Guantanamo Bay with the terrorists; I'm just incapable of making a good impression when it comes to that stuff. That plus the fact that I already have a job meant I was less than engaged last night. Everyone there wanted to talk about career goals and life choices, and all I cared about was who had seen the Fat Albert movie (I know it's awful, but I hear it calling my name anyway).

And yet, with all of this being said, the people there still listened to me as if I were some sort of medicine man from the future. Being one of the poobahs of the organization, I had a name tag and an enormous flashy ribbon that went with it. Without that ribbon, I would've been treated like a hobo who'd wandered in from the dumpster. More than once, I'd start rambling to some stranger about the worst eggroll I've ever had, and their eyes would slowly begin to glaze over. Just as they nodded off, I'd cough and motion towards my ribbon. All of a sudden, they're fawning all over me like I'm mid 1980s Scott Baio. "TELL ME MORE ABOUT EGGROLLS!" they'd demand, as they stuffed my pockets full of money. It was phenomenal, and I'm keen to try it out in other social settings. So keen, in fact, that I'm having an entire suit made of fancy ribbon. I don't understand the power of the ribbon, but I am not afraid to use it.