Monkey Business. Sarah Mlynowski

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      “Was that online Economics workshop really, um, necessary? Because I didn’t do it.”

      I do not believe the guy in the back row. Isn’t it a little late to be asking a question of that nature? I did the workshop back in June. And it took me thirty-three hours. Poor boy. He’s going to be so lost.

      The second-year student leading the orientation fingers the mole on his cheek. “It’s a good way to brush up on your skills,” he says. His voice cracks like a twelve-year-old muddling through puberty. “But I don’t think it’s something that will be tested.”

      Oh. But still. I’m glad I did it. I learned a lot, and that’s the point.

      “If you have no more questions,” our mole-leader says, “we’ll move on to the get-to-know-you exercise.”

      Yes! At last, an activity designed to help us bond with our classmates. I wish I could have been here for the beer bash last night, but one of my best friends back home was having a birthday party, and I couldn’t miss it. So I drove in late last night, and went directly to my room to start decorating. I hope my fish, Martha, likes her new home. I put her right by the window so she gets lots of sunlight. Yes, I named her after Martha Stewart, and I don’t care what anyone says, I’ll defend her innocence to my death.

      The second-year leader walks through the rows, passing out index cards. “Please write down your name, where you’re from, where you worked and an interesting fact about yourself. Then pass up the cards and I’ll read out the information. Stand up when I say your name. And then to lighten the mood, please tell your Block something embarrassing that happened to you.”

      Being a leader next year would be a fantastic experience. So would the Carry the Torch Committee. I’d be able to help shape next year’s class. Maybe I should drop by the office again after orientation to reiterate how badly I want to be part of the program.

      I must stop obsessing.

      The Japanese woman with dyed orange hair sitting to my left looks dazed. I begin writing the information on my index card. She taps me on the shoulder. “What I do?” she asks.

      Poor girl. How is she going to manage this year? I show her my sheet. “Name. Layla.” I point to myself. “Where I’m from. Manhattan. Job. Rosen Brothers Investments. Interesting fact.” I haven’t answered that question yet.

      “Oh! Thank you.” The girl smiles and nods. “My English not so good.”

      “Don’t worry. It will be.” I have to think of an interesting fact and something embarrassing. Can it be the same thing? What if I can’t think of something? How embarrassing! Could I use that?

      Let’s see now. Embarrassing…embarrassing…The time I was supposed to introduce a guest speaker in the third grade and was so overcome with stage fright that I refused to go? No, can’t say that. I don’t want them to think of me as the girl who cracks under pressure. After that little disaster, I forced myself to be in two performances to conquer my fear, and I did just fine. What about the time at summer camp when I was a counselor and had so much to drink that I passed out and wet my pants (so they said) in front of the five other staff members who later had to take me to the infirmary? As if I’d admit to that.

      When everyone has passed up their information, the mole-leader begins to randomly read out names. I try to pay attention but instead think about my Carry the Torch application. It was good. Perfect. There’s no reason for me not to make the cut.

      “Jamie Grossman,” the mole-leader says, “is from Miami. He worked in management at the children’s ward at Miami General, and of late was a freelance reporter.”

      That hospital sounds familiar. What have I heard about it? The mole keeps talking but I can’t concentrate. Where do I know that hospital from? Oh, right. From a deal I worked on when I was at Rosen Brothers. We merged two hospitals. Recommended a bunch of layoffs. I wonder if he was one of the “superfluous” personnel. Perhaps why he became a freelance journalist? That’s what I hated most about my job. Knowing my recommendations often ended with people getting axed. What can I do? That’s my job. I’m in mergers and acquisitions. And that’s where I want to go back to after I graduate. That’s where they’ll pay me the big bucks. And I get to wear those cute Chanel suits.

      I daydream about putting on my favorite Chanel suit. I love СКАЧАТЬ