I saw the "Devil Wears Prada" this weekend and got more of a kick out of the forty-something gay men in the audience who cackled and cheered and talked back to the screen this past Saturday night than I did from the actual film.
Sidebar: I thought only my colored people talked back to the screen...could there be, inside every gay man, an outspoken colored woman clamoring for attention?
Love, love, LOVE the fashion and the comeuppance of an eager college grad who works a crooked system to her advantage while losing a full dress size in the process.
Cheer as I might, though, I couldn't help but feel the same pangs of fear and dread that overpowered me for nearly a year in my first job out of college. Much like the heroine in "Devil," I too was victim of the moodswings and power trips of an evil bitch whose personal life was a shambles. If you think every tree-hugging feminist has a nurturing streak think again; I worked for the meanest, most self-loathing, fat-girl-turned-muscle-bitch in the non-profit sector and it almost killed me.
Little gay me bore the brunt of an absentee boyfriend and every other man who rejected this harlot. I also got more than a daily earful on my shortcomings as I hobbled into her office with her scalding black coffee. The abuse was so bad that I went running into the arms of the first closet case with OCD who so much as winked at me at a bar. Self esteem was so scarce back then.
But all that has changed. Today I'm rocking the (discount) designer duds in a more fulfilling, better paying PR job with fun, interesting people. For every bad day that happens along in any career, I am so thankful that not once have I been treated by my bosses at my current agency (we just had our 2 year anniversary) with the disdain and arrogance that met me in my first PR job.
Mind you, I did a five month stint at the Fox News Channel and those right-wingers were the most polite people you'd ever want to meet. Lesson learned: politics and civility don't go hand in hand.