How I almost didn’t meet your mother

I work for a television station. It’s a crappy television station–but it’s still a television station. Some folks are star-struck when they hear I work in TV (I used it to impress chiks when I single). But when someone gets a first-hand view of it, they realize it is a crappy television and nothing to be impressed with. People have this romantic view of television. They think of stations as big, well-executed, high-tech machines…which is about as far from the truth as possible at my job. The point is no one knows it’s a crappy television station until they see it.

Because we are a television station, any time there’s a job opening–no matter how mundane or small–we get a ton of applicants because people want “to get their foot in the door.” It doesn’t take long for folks to realize that door only leads to a closet–but like I said, no one knows until they’re there. I can’t tell you how many pretty young things with aspirations and dreams we hired…only to quietly disappear a few weeks later. Mailroom assistant, president’s assistant, even assistant’s assistant–all crappy jobs usually applied for by people who want bigger and better things.

Back in the fall of 2006 we were going through receptionists like Hillary goes through campaign dollars. It started because our previous receptionist got promoted to another administrative position (even though she secretly longed to be on TV and managed to find short breaks and interviews that she was the ‘perfect’ host for). For a few months, it felt like our receptionist position was like the Defense Against the Dark Arts job at Hogwarts: completely and totally cursed (that’s right, I threw out a “Harry Potter” reference).

Temps would come and go. There was one girl in particular–I want to say her name was Janet–she felt like a keeper. I think she stuck around for five weeks before she had to move out to New York for ‘family reasons’ (maybe a cousin got a casting job somewhere).

This trend was more than just a trend: we never kept anybody around. It didn’t take me long to realize there was no need to get to know or even introduce myself to any of the receptionists. It was only a matter of time until they moved on to their next role. I have a hard enough time remembering the names of all my brothers: the last thing I need to do is cram my brain full of names of people who expire faster than a block of cheese.

I stopped introducing myself to new hires. I generally ignored them unless I needed something. I wasn’t concerned about rudeness of being impolite. What did I care? They were the new hires. I would always have more seniority than them and I was certainly higher on the corporate pecking order. New hires are always polite and kiss the asses of those around them–they hafta if they wanna keep their job.

I remember one hire in particular. An email was sent out the week before she was supposed to start letting everyone know Monday morning we’d have a new receptionist. The Friday before her first day, another email was sent out; the new receptionist turned down the position for a ‘better offer’ with a different employer and–once again–the receptionist position was open. Monday morning, a third email was sent out–this time informing us that the previously new receptionist declined that better offer and took the job with us instead. Following that logic, she quit the job before she got hired only to come back; begging for the position after she changed her mind.

Obviously I was in no rush to talk to this woman. In fact, I don’t think I ever bothered to even look her in the eye.

A few weeks later she was gone. No email was sent out this time–just a new temp at the front desk. It was kinda confusing at first. I thought they were both the same girl because they both had dark hair…but it was tough for me to tell because I never bothered to look at either one of them. Besides, why was I going to bother taking the time to get to know the flakey receptionist or her new, similar-looking replacement? I was knee-deep in the middle of fantasy football. I had a couple softball teams to run. And I spent the majority of my free time scouring the internet for women who were impressed with a guy who worked at a television station.

Time gets kinda hazy here ’cause I didn’t keep track of it all–none of it mattered to me. It was a revolving door and too many faces for me to remember. Eventually, the girl who quit, came back, and disappeared returned at the front desk. I later came to found out she had spent the past month or so in the back helping fulfill packages. I wasn’t sure I recognized her at first because she was another dark-haired girl sitting at the front desk and I couldn’t keep tack of ’em all. But it was her–the girl who quit and came back. I didn’t know where she had been and nor did I care. I had no rhyme or reason to talk to her because we were in different departments and as far as I knew, she was just another flake with aspirations of stardom. I don’t remember how long I gave her the cold shoulder, but it was probably substantial.

It’s remarkable how much things change. I’m going to marry that receptionist (or should I say ‘former receptionist’: she has long-since been promoted). We’re going to be married this fall and I couldn’t be any happy. She’s the girl of my dreams and everything I’ve ever wanted…even though I didn’t know I wanted it.

It’s scary to think how dangerously close we were to this whole thing never happening. She could have taken that other job and we woulda never met. I could’ve been such a total and complete jerk that she never would’ve warmed up to me no matter how charming I am. Life is amazing like that: one decision, one turn, one action–and it could all be completely different. I am so grateful The Girlfriend came back to the station after she quit. She showed up Monday morning and waited at the door hoping the position was still available. I would have never done anything like that. Pride has something to do with it. But the biggest factor being I’m too lazy (waking up that early for a job I didn’t even know I could still have). Scary to think about: imagine losing the love of your life just because you don’t wanna get out of bed. Thank goodness The Girlfriend is more driven than me.

I never believed in fate or soulmates before I met her. When I think about how perfect she is for me, I want to believe–I know she is the only person in the world I could ever feel this way about. And when I think about how small the chances were that we meet–how close we were to never even speaking to each other–it makes me believe in fate. There is something out there–a higher being, fate, or maybe even friggin’ Cupid–that brings people together…the right people. A lot of folks get married for the wrong reasons. They stay with people that aren’t right for them. Some people settle. But there’s hope for everyone. I see it in my mom’s marriage; I see it in me. When you find that right person–because there is someone for everyone–it’s the most wonderful feeling in the world. But the best part is we’re not alone trying. Your soulmate is out there and you’ll find the right person eventually. Fate kicks in. God makes it happen.

Even if she tries to quit the job.