a greasy and humbling confrontation with the wonderful world of Business.

spent this morning's marketing class in a mire of nausea listening to a sales rep from maxim magazine talking his trade. he began with an admission that he had only agreed to this little lecture when he found out the class was 90% female. he told us he reads cosmo, and therefore "sympathizes with us girls and our dating habits". other transgressions against good taste and breeding involved shameless waffling about the insignificant politics of having a us. military ad on the back cover of their canadian issues, and a marked avoidance of any discussion of the Walrus, one of his company's other (and Much Preferred, if i may be so bold) clients. christ. here's this guy making over ("remember that, girls, OVER" he says) $62K/year, and he Isn't Worth A Bloody Thing.

my Amazing Amazing classmates made him Squirm in his greasy looking suit though, until he was more afraid of us and our merciless questions than we could Ever be of him. maya, on whom he very probably had his lascivious eye, puts up her hand and makes an apt observation about the psychographic of maxim readers, with their love of sports, toys, and Objectifying women. non-accusatory, Completely off-the-cuff tone of voice. there was a silence, a nervous chuckle, and a "woah, i guess i'm a psychographic!" from mister maxim himself. he kindda went downhill from there on the confidence front.

talking to people about it afterwards, it's so Cool to me that our class is this microcosm of observant and erudite people, diverse as we may be in our interests, and that was a pretty exciting moment when i realize we're gonna all be publishing in some form or another.