THE RETURN OF DOUG J, OR, ONE DOOR
CLOSES, ANOTHER ONE CLOSES

I had a backpacker mentality, but I was also the original contrarian, because I liked things the masses didn’t. The hipster longs to live the authentic lifestyle, but his boots were not made for walking. He owns lumberjack jerseys, but does he own a chainsaw? In my late 20s, I bought a Memphis Milano writing set at a trade fair, and the market trader deployed a fully see-through briefcase, a briefcase so trendy it hurt. The lock mechanism didn’t function and if it did, would he have been able to work it? He was trendy for the sake of being trendy, and it pains me to remember how long it took to get a receipt – longer than it would take for me to throw it away once temporarily in my pocket.

The next time the two of us spoke, I was prepared, with notes from a scrapbook of my own, the Senior Information Pages and its 15 minutes of fame consigned to history for the time being.

I spoke the following out loud, because it was amusing.

About 1935, my later father called in his partners to tell them he was divorcing my mother. “We are very sorry for you both,” they said, “but of course you will have to leave the firm because no one in Boston would trust an investment advisor who was divorced. However, you can go to New York City, because it is all right there.” And he did and it was.

Roland Shaw

During Lincoln’s first year as president, abuse mounted in the North. His inadequacy, vacillation and imbecility were widely condemned, along with his lack of intellect. “You can not fill his empty skull with brains.” He was “shattered, dull, utterly foolish.” In the South, his troops were known as “Lincolnpoops.”4 In protestant England, he was as bad as the pope. Feel better yet, Mr Reagan?

Thomas Keiser

‘Lincolnpoop,’ she repeated. ‘That’s funny.’

“Yeah,’ I concurred. ‘The best insults are timeless.’

However, I read this to myself only.

Tonight is Sunday, which means it’s MacGyver Night. So much for the idiot box. I have too much work to do. Classes are hectic as usual and I have two papers due next week. Somehow I’ll get them done but it’s hardly enjoyable. My organizational analysis Prof is really crazy and spends most of his time demonstrating how smart he is. Last night I went to hear Nanci Griffith, a C&W singer, at the Bottom Line. The concert was great and I’m still humming the tunes. My friend’s fiancé plays steel and fiddle for her, so afterwards we went back stage and talked to Nanci for a while. We danced until 2:30. Later, I heard the band played until 4:30 AM. That’s when we got back to the City. How’s London? Give my regards to the Queen.

As if with a name like Nanci, she’d be a trapeze artist rather than a vocalist of analogue C&W, or folkabilly as the baby boomers label it, penning ever-popular jingles such as Econoline Ford. And give my regards to Broadway.

Nonetheless, my crowning glory was the discovery of the Doug J Chronicles mother lode:

Dear Steve,

Thank you for taking some time to speak with me last Thursday. I hope you enjoyed the talk as much as I did. This is the ideal opportunity for a gentleman with my aspirations. I am enthusiastic, smart and prefer to work with fun people. The fact that I have never been on a losing team is a manifestation of this desire.

Dear Jon,

It is encouraging how you people treat each other. I nevertheless enjoyed our talk, whatever the decision is. While comparing your system to ours, it becomes clearer why our influence in the mortgage market is fading. Thank you once again for your valuable time.

Dear Hament,

Obviously we know the outcome of the conversations, but I nevertheless feel the need to express my appreciation for your time and advice. The feedback I received was a concern over my ability to hold up under the demands of the position. I have my own suspense about whether I will be the “invincible” salesman. My demure obviously made this doubt transparent to you. The problem is that it is this doubt which makes me work harder. What I do know is that I have rarely failed at something I really wanted. Your advice to let problems “roll off your back” is the best advice I could listen to.

Petition:

The undersigned feel that Tony “Buy me a coffee” Salvatore should be required by upper echelons of management to apply for a company ID card.

cc: Mark Berns, Atty

Santangello, Santangello & Santangello

At which point the writings stopped. I did unearth a letter in which he brown nosed an acquaintance of his father’s in association with a happenstance wave at a golf club, saying thanks for a recommendation which led him into business school, while leaving said school blank. The moral of the story is that sometimes sucking up worked, though evidently not all the time, especially when Steve, Jon and Hament were involved. This country club letter must be in another box somewhere. Which stationery did he use?

She was bemused by this whole affair and had heard enough to label this character unbelievable even without hearing Part One of the Doug J Chronicles. How do such entry level employees succeed in life and how do they live with themselves, more importantly? His constant sucking up puts things into perspective. If Steve, Jon and Hament had compared inbox correspondence as well as interview notes, how much would they have regretted inviting him in for a series of interviews in the first place?

I’d have told Lisa the story of the twenty somethings with their cartoon character shaped shampoo bottles, except she had no children. Where would she have put them anyway she’s so tiny?