Are you looking at my crotch?
Jul 21st, 2008 by dino-ray
As I reflect on my transition into the freelance world (translation: when I got laid off as a staff writer from the paper), I am reminiscing about the moment when my boss told me I when I was on dreaded “list.”
Now that time has passed, I think I can talk about it openly. I am at peace with it.
I remember what I was wearing that day: a pair of black Uniqlo slim fit jeans, a dark blue and brown plaid button up from H&M, black skinny tie and my handsome Franceschetti Chelsea boots.
My editor called me from across the room and said, “Can you meet me out in the lobby?” Right then, I immediately knew I was getting the ax. I met her in the lobby and she was on the verge of tears, which, in turn, made my eyes mist over - until she started explaining what the next steps were.
As she was giving me the logistics of the ordeal, I SWEAR she glanced at my crotch. I mean, I am 75 percent sure she glanced down there.
Surprisingly, it put me at ease.