Inside the HRC
I shouldn't have set my hopes too high for my tour of the HRC building, the 8 story headquarters of well-funded glbt activism.
I was greeted by the intricately tattooed staffer in the lobby and asked to wait for the stranger who would guide me. She begged off, claiming she wasn't trained in all the fun facts (in truth, I think she just had better things to do). So Mr. Tattoo Sleeve gave me a quick tour, to get me out of his close cropped hair.
He was polite. He smiled a bit (no flirting though) and gently hurried along. He worked there 8 years, starting at their gift store. What a long time.
Would I work there? Probably. Could I work there? That's less certain. It's a huge OutFront, with all the chaos implied... and with tiny workspace to worker ratio. One gal printed reports from the floor.
It's a good reminder to keep my ego in check. Joe perked up last night when I mentioned Harvard and my history degree, but I can't imagine HRC will chase after me longingly. If I'm going to work in DC I have to want and work very hard.
And I don't know if I do.
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