How to Make a Quick Buck Off the Desperately Unemployed

I won't name the popular "media marketplace" that threw this so-called party, because God knows, I may need them one day. Times are tough, so when I was invited to their networking party at swanky Social Hollywood, (better known as the scene for drunken antics by Paris Hilton), I was drunk with the promise of making connections in this bleak market. So did hundreds of others.

But this networking party felt like a shameless scheme to make a quick buck. It's as if the semi-media moguls sniffed out our desperation and hatched a scheme to swipe our money. Perhaps they are are struggling like the rest of us, and reserved the club for a night to hike up prices and split the profits.

How to tell if you're being hoodwinked:

1) The valet parking costs as much as dinner at Chaya

2) No open bar, but plenty of "drink specials" that insult you by their use of the word "special"

3) Too cheap to hire sufficient help, one bartender spins wildly to serve a line of 30 people, most of whom cannot afford the drink "special" in the first place

4) No entertainment, just a bunch of strangers standing in line bonding over how insane it is to have one bartender serve a party of a few hundred

5) No food. Not even a plate of germ-infested pretzels.

6) No speech given by the head of this organization to give out a message, interact with or unite the crowd. Just a raffle that no one would buy a ticket for because no one would buy the prize in the first place.

7) The raffle item is an overpriced service that the company itself offers

I would have loved to pitch my book, but I never spoke with anyone. It all felt too awkward. People either came and huddled with their friends or skulked in corners of the beautiful bar, seeing how the Paris Hiltons of the world spend their time. Apparently, bars that cater to the rich and famous have no qualms about the dangers of open firelaces and the potential damage to plush white carpeting. And when I say plush, I mean the carpet was a couple of inches thick. You sink into it while you walk, as if in a freshly-fallen snow. If it were someone's home, I would have had to take my shoes off.

We were being robbed, but everything and everyone was so pretty, that most of us didn't notice.

No comments: