I am not one of these people who love my job. I didn't go to college to study it (DROPOUT! Although I *DO* have a Doctorate in Immortality, thanks to the Universal Life Church) and I don't especially enjoying discussing my work unless its on the clock. After 8 hours of meetings, the last thing I want to do is go drink beer with a big crowd and coo about fractal geometry and fire weather predictive modeling. We're sitting in one of the most beautiful places on the planet, drinking ….copiously, thank god, and ….these people want to revisit our agenda. These people haven't had enough of Data Issues.
Because I am a professional (immortality, but I may have neglected to mention that to THIS group) I like to help guide the conversational flow in a better direction using tools from MY toolkit. Mostly lies and innuendo.
"They aren't going to fund any of this," I announced, about my 3rd beer. "They are cutting funding to Your Group. New policy will be to let it burn. Everywhere. Prescribed Natural Disaster."
"What? That's a load of crap!"
"Can't afford suppression. Looking at more posters educating people in Stop Drop and Roll…"
I like to cut back on pronouns when I'm drinking and talking. Leverage my sipping time.
"Smokey is getting a WHOLE NEW SUIT, too. Something flashy and metrosexual. People are tired of that 1950's ranger look. The new bear will be trim and wear something a little more suited to office work…infact, he'll have 3 or 4 suits…depending on our fire danger rating levels and whether California is burning down whole subdivisions, which would require a more 'We're Sorry, Have a Pencil and/or educational coloring book' look…"
Soon its just me and a few others too polite to move to another table, or too drunk. That's when I can start talking about something I really enjoy — everyone who isn't at our table.
That was my evening in a nut shell. I'm ready to come home now. I've exhausted my supply of bullshit and I miss people who will call me on it.