That's Fascinating. I Think I Left the Oven On.

There’s a national organization that I belong to that offers professional seminars, workshops and networking opportunities to all of its members in my field of work. The local chapter of this organization hosts luncheons every month that feature guest speakers who try to provide some insight into writing and communications. As someone who is looking for a new job, I diligently attend these meetings, which are usually well attended by other members who work in the same industry. These luncheons are very valuable networking tools, which I use to, of course, socialize with my friends.

For instance, at the latest function, while most people were chatting about what they do and their professional interests, my friend and I were going through the buffet line and discussing how his roommate recently gave away his new dog after only two weeks because it, and I quote, “wouldn’t stop peeing.” Most of my conversations at these events go like this, and they usually take place among the same three people every month.

I know networking is a great way to hunt for jobs and in order for it to work, you have to meet a lot of new people. But there’s one major objection I have to networking – the meeting a lot of new people part. I hate talking to people. Strangers, anyway. And I really hate when people randomly walk up to me and try to engage in conversation for the purpose of seeing if I can help their career (I can assure you up front – I can’t).

I got caught in just such a predicament at the end of the latest luncheon. I was standing around waiting for my friends to finish talking to the guest speaker, whom they had worked with before, when some guy walked up to me. I recognized him because he had gotten up and spoken to the whole group earlier about something called I-Fi. Not Wi-Fi, which I had just gotten accustomed to hearing in everyday conversation, despite knowing little to nothing about it, but I-Fi. I-Fi is apparently a chip or card that you insert into your digital camera that allows you to instantly upload a picture to your e-mail or personal website from anywhere in the world. At no time do you have to hook up the camera to your or anybody else’s computer. As if the fact that every third person on the planet owns a camera phone isn’t reason enough to permanently stay indoors.

Anyway, even though the expression on my face said “I have the Bird Flu,” he proceeded to introduce himself.

“Hi, I’m someone who’s name you’ve already forgotten,” he said.

“Hi, I’m Mike,” I responded.

“So Mike, who do you work for?”

“Uh, (insert name of multi billion-dollar, soul-sucking corporation),” I said.

“Oh man, have I got a social networking system for (multi billion-dollar, soul-sucking corporation),” he said. “Have you ever heard of Pie-Fi?”

“No.”

“It’s even better than I-Fi. Pie-Fi is a giant, transcontinental networking system that allows all of your offices to instantly tap into the electrical mainframes of each of the other offices and instantly perform the duties of those offices in an instant. From one central location, you can operate each buildings’ copiers, fax machines, printers, coffee makers, lights, air conditioning, the locks on the doors, the microwaves in the break rooms, the parking levers on the guard shacks and the hand dryers in the bathrooms,” he said.

“Hmmm,” I informed him.

“If you have Pie-Fi in your car, it will e-mail your boss your mileage and what you spent on gas every time you fill up during a business trip. It’ll even make your toast in the morning.”

(Pause)

“What if I haven’t put any bread in the toaster?” I asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” he noted. “It’ll butter it up and have it sitting on the table when you walk in the kitchen. It’ll even read you the Sunday paper.”

“Wow. That’s the biggest edition of the week,” I said.

“Exactly,” he grinned.

At this point, the-guy-who’s-name-I-can’t-remember mercifully let me slip away when I told him that I had a hunch my car was on fire. I had to make up something because my “friends” had long since given me the “talk to you later” head bob on their way out the door while I was still being held captive.

Serves me right, though. That’s what the meetings are for. And it all worked out in the end. I got my brand new Pie-Fi to post this whole message, so if you didn’t like it, don’t blame me. And go check your toaster.