Naïveté's Bitch

Last night, the boss sent Shawn, Adrian and myself out to my favorite place in the world, Atlantic Station to do a bit (radio speak for skit). Apparently, Atlanta was recently voted the number one city for the worst sleep. So the ladies of the Bomb Squad hit the streets as sheep to help the residents of this fine city get a good night's rest. Equipped with signs (and sheep ears), Shawn and Adrian patrolled Atlantic Station "baa-ing" while I got comments from onlookers. It was good fun. But that's not the point of today's blog, I was just sharing some of my antics as an intern.

On the way from the radio station to Atlantic Station, I was playing my Justin Timberlake CD when my favorite interlude came on and I turned the volume up. Adrian shares my love for this interlude and proceeded to moan and have all but an actual orgasm in the backseat of the TB. I was zoning and singing the song myself until I realized what was going on. I turned to Shawn (and turned the volume down) and made a "too far" kind of face and she admitted that she was very uncomfortable too. We parked, got out of the car and went about our shenanigans for the evening.

Fast forward two hours, we were back at the station and Wendy handed Adrian Atlanta Magazine. Adrian FLIPS OUT, starts breathing heavy and asks if he could just kiss her on her cheek again. As her breathing regulated, I asked her who the hell she was talking about. "Scooter Braun" was the answer as her breathing became rapid again. "I just want some time, another hug, another kiss, whatever dude." This isn't the first time Adrian has almost seized over Scooter, she pretty much collapses every time she thinks about him. And it's not just Scooter, it's pretty much any man she's got the slightest baby crush on. Whatever, we all deal with things differently. Still not the point of today's blog, I'm just setting you guys up.

We got off early so Adrian and I decided to head over to the Olive Garden to be fat friends. We were headed down in the elevator (and she was still talking about him) when I interrupted her and asked (with a bit too much disgust, I guess), "So Scooter Braun has a LAYOUT in Atlanta Magazine!?!"

A little caught off guard, Adrian answered, "Well, it's not a layout, it's a picture with a little blurb."

Before I could stop it (my head was racing), I said, "So he's somebody? Like, REALLY somebody? Is that why his head is exorbitantly big? Sheesh. I didn't know..."

Adrian looked at me sideways and asked, "Do you know from personal experience?"

Crossing my arms to protect myself from the 65-degree cold, I answered, "Huh? Nope, I have nothing to say about Scooter Braun." And I didn't. Not to Adrian, at least. It's called separating your personal life from your work life. I work in HR, I KNOW how important that is (and yes, I know I got off on the wrong foot by calling a guy I met at work, I'm dealing with that, thanks).

So Scooter Braun's Mr. Popularity. And that's why he is quite possibly the biggest dick I've ever encountered. I should've seen the signs ("I want as many friends on Myspace as possible"), but, like most women, I was blinded by the charm and good looks and got stupid. No more. Mr. Braun got me at a weak point and caught a couple of my weak moments, but that's come to and end. It's his job and I'm an idiot. To be charming, funny and irresistible is what he's paid to do, that's how people come out to his parties.

I'm not saying he's a bad person, I'm sure he's funny, fun and caring when it comes to his friends, girlfriend (yes, ladies, girlfriend, found that out, too) and the people who really know him, but I no longer bear the desire to WANT to know him, so there (for the record, I really just wanted to be his friend and see where things went...but he DEFINITELY had a coochie coupon, though, much to my chagrin...again, I'm dealing with it).

When I run into him (as I know I will), I will be polite and congenial, but that's the extent of me that he's gonna get (obviously, the coochie coupon has been revoked as well). As my first true lesson in radio, I took a nice little bruising, but I'm stronger for it. "The Industry" is just that, an industry, and everyone in it is as fake as the girls they show walking the streets in videos. Adrian said something very poignant last night about being polite to everyone because you just NEVER know who you're talking to. Truer words were never spoken. Anyway, I get it. No longer will I be naïveté's bitch.