Free Everyone Worth Knowing by Lauren Weisberger

or you didn't."
    "Well, if he weren't my boss, I probably wouldn't have even
    counted it. Just in and out a few times—nothing major."
    "That's more than I've done in two years," I said.
    "Interesting. What I'm wondering is just how many other guys
    fall into the not-major-enough-to-count category. Janie? Wanna fill
    us in?" Courtney asked. Alex returned from her fridge-and-hot-plate
    kitchen with a tray of shot glasses, each filled to the brim.
    "Why even bother to talk about The Very Bad Boy when we
    have our own very bad girl right here?" she said and passed the
    glasses around the room.
    We were off and running.
     
    5
    Another three weeks slipped by in much the same manner as
    my first month of unemployment, made only slightly less pleasurable
    by the daily phone calls from Will and my parents, who
    claimed to just be "checking in." Here's how it usually went:
    Mom: Hi, honey. Any new leads today?
    Me: Hi, Mom. I'm pounding the pavement. There's a lot that
    sounds promising, but I haven't picked the perfect thing yet.
    How are you and Dad?
    Mom: We're fine, dear, just worried about you. You remember
    Mrs. Adelman, right? Her daughter is the head of fund-raising for
    Earth Watch and she said you're welcome to call her, that they
    could always use more dedicated, qualified people.
    Me: Mmm, that's great. I'll look into that. [Channel flip to ABC as
    Oprah begins.] I better get moving. I have some more cover letters
    to write.
    Mom: Cover letters? Oh, of course. I don't want to keep you.
    Good luck, honey. I know you'll find something soon.
    Aside from those seven painful minutes every day when I insisted
    I was fine, the job search was fine, and I was sure I'd find
    something soon, everything actually was terrific. Bob Barker,
    Millington, an apartment full of trashy paperbacks, and four bags
    of Red Hots a day kept me company as I languidly surfed online
    job sites, making the occasional printout and the even more occasional
    application. I sure didn't feel depressed, but it was kind of
    hard to judge, especially since I rarely left my building and thought
    of little besides how to maintain my current lifestyle without ever
    getting another job. You hear people all the time making statements
    like "I was only out of work for a week and I went crazy! I
    mean, I'm just the kind of person who needs to be productive,
    needs to make a contribution, you know?" Nope, I didn't know.
    My cash flow was in jeopardy, of course, but I figured something
    would turn up eventually, or I'd throw myself at the mercy of Will
    and Simon. It would be silly to waste time worrying when I could
    be learning genuinely valuable life lessons from Dr. Phil.
    Collecting the mail killed a solid ten minutes each day. Although
    I knew that the mail came at two each afternoon, I usually
    wasn't motivated to fetch it until late evening, when I would grab
    the armful of bills and catalogs and bolt for the elevator. Thirteenth
    floor. Unlucky thirteen. When I'd hesitated before seeing the apartment
    for the first time, the broker had sneered, saying something
    like, "What, do you believe in astrology, too? You can't seriously be
    concerned about something so ridiculous . . . not when it's got
    central air-conditioning at this price!" And since it seemed to be a
    distinctly New York phenomenon to be abused by the people you
    paid to perform a service, I'd immediately stammered out an apology
    and signed on the dotted line.
    Today, luckily, my mailbox contained the latest issue of In
    Touch, which would occupy at least another hour. After retrieving
    it, I unlocked the door, scanned the floor for potential water bugs,
    and braced for the usual hysterics from Millington. She always
    seemed convinced that this was the day I would abandon her forever
    and met my homecoming with a frenzy of wheezing, snorting,
    sniffing, jumping, sneezing, and submissive peeing so frantic
    that I wondered if she might one day die from the excitement of
    it all.
    Remembering the