Today, I was talking to the receptionist in our lobby when Bernie Mac & his entourage showed up to a meeting with the big whigs. Bernie was wearing (I shit you not) a bright mustard-colored suit with a matching hat. He actually looked good, even though he resembled a giant bottle of French’s.
Bernie walked right up to me, put his arm around me and said, “Hey there! How are you today?” (because we’re best friends and shit, you know).
I put my fake I’m-smiling-even-though-I-don’t-like-your-show-that-much-smile on my face and started to shoot the shit with him, since D (the receptionist) was about to get on the phone to let the big cheese know that Bernie was here. Before D had a chance to get a dial tone, the big glass doors to the executive offices swung open and a swarm of people came out with their schmoozy smiles and handshakes.
I got caught in the cross-fire of greetings. Bernie’s people were saying hi to the big whigs and vice-versa. And somebody actually GUSHED to Bernie about his current show on Fox (it wasn’t me, I swear).
I was too busy trying not to be crushed and trampled in all the oozing and schmoozing.
I’m happy to report, I made it out alive. Whew!
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