You won't hear me complaining about my job.

I work for a $100 million-dollar staffing services company that employs about 500 people. I support the sales department, though I myself am not in sales. I just don't have the hair for it. ;) Every quarter, we have a national sales meeting, where all the reps from around the country fly in and we get a state of the union sort of thing, along with training for the reps. My role is usually to put on a dog-n-pony demonstrating whatever technical tools I've made available to them. So I get to go to these two-day meetings, where I officially just sit there and wait for my turn but unofficially I learn a shitload about our business and business in general. I'm glad to go, I look at it as free training.

It's my first time working for an entrepreneurial company but it won't be my last. What I really like is the meritocracy- there are none of those incumbent incompetents who have worked there since the great ice receeded and don't do a damn thing or are complete professional loobies. The company can't afford any fat, so anybody who's a bungler or full of shit is rapidly weeded out. This, of course, puts pressure on me to do a good job so I can keep it, but that's a good thing. Everybody in upper management is on the ball, sharp as a tack, and some of them I would say are genius. It's a lot easier to be motivated about your job when you admire and respect your boss.

This quarter, the meeting was in Michigan City, Indiana. Both the President and the owner have summer homes there, it's a real quant-n-rustic every-house-is-a-B&B type of small town. The first day was held at the President's summer cottage, about 75 miles from Chicago. Now, the sales director was announcing a contest, and the prize is a BMW Z3 convertible. (Second prize, of course, is a set of steak knives- LOL!). Somebody had to take that Z3 over there to unveil, so my boss and I were stuck with the task. :) We drove a buck-and-a-quarter the whole way there, top down of course. It was quite a ride. I must admit we blasted ABBA and Madonna the whole way there, because hey, what do you expect from a company that has The Advocate in its waiting room?

The Prez's summer cottage was quite nice. I'd never even thought about owning a second home, it's so far removed from my world. Little three-bedroom cottage, surrounded by trees, rustic-crusty. We held our meeting in the pool. It's hard to be bored and fidgety when you're floating on water-worms up to your neck in water. Only problem was, we didn't think to laminate the handouts. It was a long meeting, too, boy was I pruny! Of course, the Mike's Hard Lemonade helped. I made sure not to have too many, that would definitely be a "CLM" (Career Limiting Move).

Meanwhile the other team played golf for their meeting. I was damn glad not to have to, five hours in the hot sun playing a sport I've never played doesn't sound fun to me. The owner paid a buck a stroke for anyone who could beat him, and came in third. Gotta love a company where you can beat the boss at golf and not get fired. ;) So he dropped about $30, but he also dropped $700 in the pro shop/clubhouse buying equipment and beer for his teammates.

Then off to dinner at your typical heads-on-the-wall lodge. I asked for a Red Bull N Vodka, and as it turned out, a sales rep had dropped one can off earlier that day. I got the only can in the county! Good thing I was only gonna be there two days.

Then, after dinner, we headed for the Blue Chip casino. I was pumped, as I had never been gambling or to a casino before. At each plate at dinner there was a goodie bag with a Blue Chip Casino keychain, a VIP pass, a drilled and marked deck of cards, and a $25 chip. Not bad considering there were 30 or so people there. Some of my coworkers had the nerve to bitch, later, that they had provided us with beer all day long, all we can drink and eat at dinner, but didn't pay our liquor tab at the casino. Goddammit, spend your $25 on drinks if it's that important.

I, of course, had to dress up. I put on my white-woven tuxedo, with huge black velvet lapels, black velvet trim on the ruffles down the front, and a gigantic bowtie. Add some PVC tux shoes and I looked just like a high roller out of the movie "Casino". Of course, that took place in the 1970's. :D The rest of the gang busted up when I walked in, and I swear the owner was about to piss his pants. He greased my palm with a $1 handshake. Then there were lots of jokes about fetching their car and ordering the crab cakes.

The casino itself, well, it was definitely not Vegas. The members of our group were the only people in there having fun. Everybody else was either a serious, scowling gambler or a bleary-eyed zombie shuffling from the tables to the ATMs and back. The ATMs, of course, only distributed in $100 amounts. Then you had the old biddies endlessly punching the slot machine buttons. They have those comp cards that plug into your machine and then clip to your collar, I swear, it looked like something out of The Matrix. Row upon row of blue-hairs collared to their slot machines, pushing buttons like monkeys trying to write Shakespeare, as their dull, blank eyes reflected the tumblers. It was very, very depressing.

Is Vegas any more spirited? Our group was gathered around the craps tables, a-hootin' and a-hollerin. The money wasn't ours so we had nothing to lose, and those who spent their own had too much of it anyway. I myself sat down with some friends at the roulette table, ignoring the angry stares from 90% of the gamblers and dealers and posing cheesily for those with the sense of humor to appreciate my tux.

Now, the Souther Liar (the Hooterhumper) has a theory that the roulette tables can be controlled, to make sure that the house wins the majority of the bets on the board. I believe it, too, after my damn luck. One of the sales ladies gave me her chip and went back to the hotel, so I had $50 to gamble with. I got $5 in slot machine tokens and put $5 in my pocket. That left me with eight chances on a table with a $5 minimum bet. I bet on red and black, and lost 8 times in a row. Fifteen minutes at 50-50 odds (almost) and my money's gone, wasn't that a shitload of fun. I swear that whoever controlled the table was pissed at me for mocking them with my ridiculous getup. Either that or I just had the worst luck in the house, I figure the odds of my losing streak at about 0.19%. At least I learned straight off that I didn't want to spend any of my own money there.

Meanwhile the Souther Liar was up $140 but blew it all. Brooklyn Mick cooly left the table with a crisp c-note and didn't gamble again. Cliche Coworker just cashed his chip and walked out with $25. At least I came out ahead because of the Lincoln in my pocket. Meanwhile, the damn rich folks in our group had all the luck, with one guy hitting his number at roulette on a $25 bet. The owner, however, lost about $500. My boss whined that there was no place to sit without spending money, sat down on a slot stool and put in a coin to justify it, and won $250. I put my $1 from my greased handshake into a slot machine, hoping I'd win a bundle and have a great story to tell. But they don't keep the lights on in that place by giving out money. :(

The next day was spent at the owner's million-dollar summer cottage. It was a van der Rohe style summer home, with the central cottage and three outbuildings connected by breezeways. Very shwanky. Slate floors, stainless steel kitchen, 24-foot ceilings. Surely the type of summer home I'll own when I'm 35. ;)

Aside from my horrible luck at the casino, it was a fun coupla days away from work. The folks there were all pretty cool and there was lots of joking around. I got to drive faster than I've ever gone on the ground. I got to spend some non-work time with my coworkers. And I wowed them all with my fabulous fashion sense. Surely they could tell I was a rainmaker in the making, for as they always say, the rainmaker is always dressed better than everyone else in the room, and his shoes are always shined. Of course, they were PVC, but nobody had to know that ;)