My daughter and I went out to lunch a few weeks back. She handed me a card and said, "I'll know the results on Friday." Holy heaven. The blood drained from my face. "NO. It's not a pregnancy test. I applied for a management position in my company!" The card was a sweet note thanking me for being supportive of her decisions. I told her that if she got the job, I'd be thrilled to buy her a new suit. Deal.
She interviewed with the manager. The next week she called to say she learned that she didn't get the job. Someone told her that the sales director's daughter won the position. I hung up the phone, laid on the couch, and never got up.
The next day, she called to say the manager had asked to speak with her in a few hours. I told her he doesn't want a disgruntled employee. He's going to give you a pep talk. Just take it in. It turns out that he called to congratulate her on getting the job. I asked, "What did he say?" She said, "I don't know. I blacked out. The only thing I remember is that he said, "Let me show you your office."
Yesterday we went shopping for that new suit. The salesman asked, "Is this your daughter's new Big Girl Job Suit?" She was so excited. I was so proud. Who cares that it's a silly, demeaning phrase. Would you call it a, "Big Boy Job?" So grateful to shop with her and share this experience.
Blago spent thousands of dollars on new suits for his Big Boy Job. I sort of get how important he felt as he was being fitted, as he touched the rich fabrics. I get how sad he will be when he misses the opportunity to help his daughter find her first business suit.
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