The only way to get to Antarctica is by cruise ship. Even the smallest one has 150 passengers, which translates into me being trapped with 149 other people who will uniquely annoy the hell out of me with their rudeness, waste, idiotic questions, incessant yammering, creepy food requests, boring small talk, etc. Or worse, they might turn their curiosity toward me, and expect pleasantry in return. I’m getting a panic attack just thinking about it. A little social anxiety never hurt anyone, am I right?
If I give you the info, could you pretty please take over the paperwork, visas, plane tickets, everything involved with getting we three from Seattle to the White Continent? Is this something you have time for?
Say yes,
Bernadette
Oh! You already have credit card numbers to pay for airfare, trip, and accoutrements. But in terms of your salary, I’d like you to take it directly out of my personal account. When Elgie saw the Visa charge for your work last month — even though it wasn’t much money — he wasn’t thrilled that I’d hired a virtual assistant from India. I told him I wouldn’t be using you anymore. So, if we could, Manjula, let’s keep our romance an illicit one.
From: Manjula Kapoor
To: Bernadette Fox
Dear Ms. Fox,
It would be my pleasure to assist you with your family travel plans to Antarctica. Attached please find the contract for moving forward on a full-time basis. Where indicated, please include your bank routing number. I look forward to our continued collaboration.
Warm regards,
Manjula
Invoice from Delhi Virtual Assistants International
Invoice Number: BFB39382
Associate: Manjula Kapoor
40 hours a week at $0.75 USD/hr.
TOTAL:
$30.00 USD
Invoice Due in Full upon Receipt
WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 17
Letter from Ollie Ordway (“Ollie-O”)
CONFIDENTIAL:
TO GALER STREET SCHOOL PARENT ASSOCIATION
Dear Parents,
It was terrific to meet you last week. I’m thrilled to have been brought in to consult for the wonderful Galer Street School. Head of School Goodyear promised a motivated Parent Association, and you didn’t disappoint.
Let’s talk turkey: in three years you’re losing your lease on your current location. Our goal is to launch a capital campaign so you will be able to purchase a larger, more suitable campus. For those of you who couldn’t attend the meeting, here’s the drill-down:
I conducted an off-site consisting of 25 parents in the Seattle area with an income of $200K+ and whose children are entering kindergarten. The headline is that Galer Street is considered a second-tier school, a fallback option for those who don’t get accepted to their first-choice school.
Our objective is to move the needle on Galer Street and kick it up into the First-Choice Cluster (FCC) for Seattle’s elite. How do we achieve this? What is the secret sauce?
Your mission statement says Galer Street is based on global “connectitude.” (You people don’t just think outside the box, you think outside the dictionary!) You received some impressive big-media coverage for the cows you bought for the Guatemalans and the solar cookstoves you sent to the African villagers. While raising small sums of money for people you’ve never met is commendable, you need to start raising large sums of money for your own children’s private school. To do this, you must emancipate yourselves from what I am calling Subaru Parent mentality and start thinking more like Mercedes Parents. How do Mercedes Parents think? My research indicates the following:
1. The choice of private schools is both fear-based and aspirational. Mercedes Parents are afraid their children won’t get “the best education possible,” which has nothing to do with actual education and everything to do with the number of other Mercedes Parents at a school.
2. When applying to kindergarten, Mercedes Parents have their eyes on the prize. And that prize is Lakeside School, alma mater of Bill Gates, Paul Allen, et al. Lakeside is considered the feeder school to the Ivy League. Let me rock it straight: the first stop on this crazy train is Kindergarten Junction, and nobody gets off until it pulls into Harvard Station.
Head of School Goodyear took me on a tour of your current campus at the industrial park. Apparently, Subaru Parents have no problem sending their children to a school adjacent to a wholesale seafood distributor. Let me assure you, Mercedes Parents do.
All roads lead to raising the money to buy a new campus. The best way to achieve it is to pack the incoming kindergarten class with Mercedes Parents.
Grab your crampons because we have an uphill climb. But fear not: I do underdog. Based on your budget, I have devised a two-pronged action plan.
The first action item is a redesign of the Galer Street logo. Much as I love clip-art handprints, let’s try to find an image that better articulates success. A coat of arms divided into four, with images of the Space Needle, a calculator, a lake (as in Lakeside), and something else, maybe some kind of ball? I’m just throwing out some ideas here, nothing’s set in stone.
The second action item is to hold a Prospective Parent Brunch (PPB), which we aim to fill with Seattle’s elite, or, as I have grown fond of saying, Mercedes Parents. Galer Street parent Audrey Griffin has generously offered to host this gathering at her lovely home. (Best to keep away from the fishery.)
Attached please find a spreadsheet listing Seattle Mercedes Parents. It is imperative that you go over this list and tell me who you can deliver to the PPB. We’re looking for the watershed get we can then squawk as leverage toward securing other Mercedes Parents. When they all see one another, it will alleviate their fears about Galer Street being a second-tier school and the applications will roll in.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, I’m working on the invite. Get me those names ASAP. We need to take this brunch at the Griffins’ house live before Christmas. Saturday, December 11, is my target date. This puppy has all the ingredients of an epic kilt lifter.
Cheers,
Ollie-O
Note from Audrey Griffin to a blackberry abatement specialist
Tom,
I was out in my garden, cutting back the perennials and planting some winter color in preparation for a school brunch we’re hosting on December 11. I went to turn the compost and got attacked by blackberry vines.
I’m shocked to see that they have returned, not only in the compost pile, but in my raised vegetable beds, greenhouse, and even my worm bin. You can imagine my frustration, especially since you charged me a small fortune to remove them three weeks ago. (Maybe $235 isn’t a lot for you, but it’s a lot for us.)
Your flyer said you guarantee your work. So, please, could you come back and remove all the blackberries by the 11th, this time for good?