So last week I was lucky enough to get a surprise visitor. My first DC friend Sailor Moon was in town for a deposition. When I say she was my first DC friend, that’s not an exaggeration. We actually met during orientation at the grad school program we were in. DC is a very transient place, so it’s nice when you can reconnect with old friends.
Sailor Moon is very gifted in the ways of the job-hunting Force. She is like the Career Yoda. By the time the rest of us were figuring out how to use the metro here, she had already gotten a job at the best law firm in Sillycon Valley. When the dot com bust happened. She left her firm, with a severance package two months before a massive round of layoffs where no one got anything but a security guard escort to the front door with a free box to put their belongings in. Mad Job Skillz!
Anyway, I had dinner with her and a friend of hers (who’s probably reading this right now) at a place called Kelly’s Irish Times. It’s an irish bar that’s frequented by the type of annoying yuppies who play adult kickball (it’s a DC thing) and go to bars afterwards wearing their team uniforms as proudly as if they had just played and won a game in a real sport. Sorry kidz, but if it’s a “sport” that is played by 5th graders because the coordination required is so rudimentary that it won’t negatively affect even a child’s self esteem, then it’s not a real sport. Despite the bar’s shortcomings, they have chicken fingerz, and any kind of deep fried food can make up for a lot of sins.
So we talked about the Ninja Fortress, my plan to make a living from Ninja Stock Picks ™ and my dating life. Needless to say, each situation was pretty pathetic, but showing signs of hope. Sailor Moon had a baby recently, so did her cute friend. The conversation eventually turned to my plans for procreation.
SailorMoon: You ‘re good with kids…you should have a child.
Ninja: I’d like to, but I don’t have a uterus.
SailorMoon: [to friend] He’s kidding about that….tell her you’re kidding.
Ninja: ummm, okay…I was kidding about that…I do have a uterus.
We discussed my super-secret plan to eventually leave my job for something better and to make millions. All I need to do is to figure out what the “something” is and I’ll be all set. Maybe I can open a restaurant and sell deep fried food to Yuppie Kickball Leagues?