Small Town

I did some light google stalking before an OKC date last week and discovered that the gentleman in question worked for a company that I interviewed with during the Great Job Hunt Weight Gain of 2012.  He clearly presented as a good ol’ fashion D.C. do-gooder, previously working to  “eradicate child labor in the Uzbekistan cotton sector.”  I have never thought of Uzbekistan cotton sector.  Not once.

He was delighted to learn of our holy-mother-this-town-is-small connection, telling me the person they did hire for the job I’d interviewed for sat next to him.  And the woman that sent the “thanks, but no thanks” email was his ex-girlfriend.  In D.C., the seven degrees rule of separation is more like two degrees and one of those degrees is real fucking awkward.  It’s a fact.

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