A City Girl Goes to Syracuse

Six years ago this week I went on my first official business trip for my new job.  Still wet behind the ears, they shipped me off to Syracuse, NY to work the Great New York State Fair to save Social Security.  Six years later I returned to once again protect and preserve one of President Roosevelt's greatest accomplishments and eat some funnel cake. 

For a die-hard New Yorker (born & raised in Queens, currently reeking havoc in Brooklyn) Central NY is nothing short of a little bit country.  Being the only single person in a state office of 23+ people, Syracuse is a dating dead zone unless mullets, rednecks, and toothless bumpkins are your top three turn ons.  But like anything I do, I put on my funny pants and "make it happen."   

Being the only single person in your office means that your co-workers live vicariously through you and beg you to tell dating disaster stories at dinner. Fortunately for them, I'm never at a loss for one.  I'm also the prime suspect for teasing and ackward efforts on their parts to fix me up with guys that they think "would just be perfect" for me.  Characters you meet at the State Fair are no exception. 

I'm not sure who started the game, probably me, but during our down time we started to play "Find Stacey's redneck husband" a variation of my more successful nightclub game of "find Stacey's thug husband."  The top candidates included a mullet wearing biker who was 30 months pregnant and about to pop, a toothless Social Security recipient, and a vagabond security guard.  Hardy har har....

The prize went to the no-neck, thirty-something, car salesman who got a tongue lashing fromme for being your common run-of-the-mill dick. Let me explain: I work for THE largest political nonprofit in the country. I'm required to be a lobbyist and wear our brand like a badge wherever I go.  This causes me to encounter angry old ladies who hit me with their pocketbooks and know-it-all local yokels who spit and curse in my face.  "Senor No Neck" was no exception.   

My female colleague and I entered the Fair Sponsors' lounge with the intent of cooling off from the summer sun and grabbing a cold beverage.  "No Neck" was there talking trash with some of his female friends.  We walk in with our branded, bright red, polos and everyone turned to look at us.  "No Neck" sees me and says, "A-A-R-P, you guys supported Obamacare."  Now normally when someone says this to me I refer to my talking points or introduce the offending idiot to one of my coworkers who is more experienced in handling our salty members than I am.  But not this time.  I was tired, sweaty, and felt gross.  I took a sip of my soda, pulled my sunglasses off, tossed them on the table, and in my best Brooklynese responded, "I'm sorry, what did YOU just say?"  The room went quiet and "No Neck" turned red and gulped.  The chatter level dialed back up to an 11 and my coworker smiled and mouthed a "nice one" to me.  We finished our drinks and I stood up and then it happened.

CNN is talking about the only thing that could overshadow the State Fair - Hurricane Irene.  "No Neck" chimed in with "people from New York City are nothing but a bunch of wimps & babies, they can't handle a little bit of rain?"  I admit it, I lost it.  I placed both my hands loudly down on the table and schooled "No Neck" (who's probably never left the greater Syracuse area for anything more than a rave or beerfest) on the resilience and passion of real New Yorkers. If it's at all possible, I think his head sunk further into his shoulders and his mouth stood wide open waiting for something or someone to shut it for me.

I popped a piece of cheese into my mouth, thanked our State Fair hostess, and walked out of the lounge about three feet taller than when I walked in.  My coworker scurried out after me and ran ahead to tell our colleagues of the awesomeness that had just transpired. 

Two days later, I walked back into the lounge with another colleague who could tell right away from the look on my face that "No Neck" was present.  Maybe it was the stature of my 6ft. 5in. colleague or the nasty look on my face but "No Neck" excused himself from the table and went to sit alone in a corner.

Victorious, I returned to our exhibit table and resumed my own personal game of "count the mullets."  I won the staff bet with 47 counted in a 3 day period.  I didn't find the golden prize - a midget with a mullet but there's always next year....