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"Did you know only 0.4% of CEOs are women?" asked Marcia.
"That can't be true." Eric responded immediately.
"It is. And most of them are in retail or the cosmetics industry. Worse, the numbers of female CTOs are so low, they don't even keep stats. And this is completely inane statistically, but even the Nobel is better since more women win it than run Fortune 500 companies."
He raised his eyebrows. "In total, ever?"
"Fortune, this year, Nobel, historically." she conceded. "But I only counted, you know, the prize categories I'd have any hope switching majors for."
"Are you sure about that?" Eric smiled. There was an edge of mockery in it, but not enough to be rude, especially since he also bumped their coasters together in a friendly way. "Because I would definitely put Marcie Zuckerberg in the running to pen The Great American Novel."
She didn't bother rolling her eyes. "This is serious."
He leaned over the table to steal a few fries, fending off the smack in return. "If you're looking for exceptional standards for yourself, might as well stay open-minded."
"Eric."
"Marcia."
--
Christine wouldn't shut up about this BU party, so Marcia finds herself sucking down beers in an unfamiliar kitchen like it's going out of style. Socializing with strangers is so much easier inebriated. Eduarda is with her, and Marcia is feeling more irritated by the second because of it. If someone can't stop peering into the main room every 2 seconds, she should just get back to the others already. No one asked for her to tag along as the designated babysitter. Marcia's about to step forward and tell Eduarda as much when a guy runs into them.
Marcia shoves him back hard because Watch where you're going, asshole; you got beer all over my friend. Unusually though, it doesn't escalate any further because he's apologizing and grabbing towels and getting them both new drinks. And what's really bizarre is that once they get everything cleaned up and go through the tedious motions of names and majors, he's barely paying any attention to Eduarda (who has amazing hair, and is really easy to talk to, and looks especially well put together tonight). But instead starts talking to her (who has a massive zit on her forehead) about open source software. Of all things. Weird, right?
She's really getting into the swing of it with the disaster that is linux sound architecture when she decides she might as well sit down with this guy, Eric or whatever. For the sake of her neck. Which is starting to tire from craning up. He's smart and when she makes her information wants to be free joke, he echoes the standard "as in beer?" follow up. It's not the wittiest comeback, but he's not entirely ignorant and he is handing her another bottle as he's saying it, which she didn't even need to uncap since he already did it. Whatever. Marcia relaxes into a slouch beside him letting the wall prop her up. She'll take it.
The rest of the night passes in a not unpleasant haze. until Eduarda is coming over and telling her that Christine and the others left hours ago and they need to get going soon if they want to catch the last subway. Marcia abruptly pushes Eric's head off her shoulder (when did that happen?) and stands up. She tries hard not to look apologetic. He asks for her number, which is amazing. But it's even better that he readily agrees to exchange emails instead (is her dorm phone even still connected?). She fishes for a pen in her hoodie, but only comes up with a laser pointer, coins, and a crayon. Eduarda, of course, carries several pens in her purse.
Later, she realizes she's more tipsy than she thought because the sounds of the T, of the train running over the tracks, are sooooo much more soothing than usual. Almost putting her to sleep. Eduarda is leaning on her, but it's still nice because it's cooler weather than normal for April.
Warda brings up Eric out of nowhere. "He's laidback." she says, an indecipherable look on her face that turns into a tired smile before Marcia can analyze it.
"OK?"
"That's good. He's not uptight, not like some Harvard guys. It's really good."
--
"Eric, I'm not trying to be pompous. The fact is, there are guys at Harvard who -" she picked up the ketchup bottle, gesturing with a frown. "A slightly spectacular sneeze is enough to get hedge funds falling all over themselves to throw money at it, if it's the right men sneezing."
"And if it's the wrong men?"
Marcia ignored him, and busied with herself the salt shaker. "Campus is a wasteland for all the prospects it offers if you're not already top of the heap. Some of the associations and student groups might be worth it, but I can't handle bleeding heart bullshit -"
"- those important and worthwhile causes." he filled in.
"And sororities are out because they're either for sluts," her eyes narrowed as she took a french fry, "or worse, careerists."
Eric's lips twitched. "Is the idea of sisterhood is so appalling?"
She ate a few more fries and scowled. "What does that mean?"
"Well," he explained, "you want to be distinguished. They have a vested interest in placing distinguished women affiliated with them in positions of power."
"Are you like, whatever, delusional?" Marcia was staring at him as if he had insulted her favourite compiler. "I'm not good at playing along with people and it's definitely too much effort to achieve the level of sex appeal I'd need to sleep my way up."
"That's easy enough to hack. You'll just have to," he waved his hands, "optimize a few arbitrary subroutines."
"My attention span wasn't made for heuristics like depilation." she snapped back.
"I was kidding, Marcie." Eric sighed.
"And if it's the wrong men..." she went on. "All he needs is to be competent. And have one really good idea. Then he can do whatever he wants - drop out of school, move into his parents' garage, stop showering - doesn't matter. He'll still get to be the next Wozniak, or Gates, or Shawn Fanning." Her voice went flatter. "I'd kill for those odds."
Eric was staring at her, and she ducked her head down for a long drink of beer. When she resurfaced, he was still quiet. He took a sip of his own, swallowed, then replied impassively, "Bill Gates must be in the Fortune 500."
"Microsoft." she corrected. "Number 72. She idly tapped her fingers for a moment. "Actually, he's not a good example because he had all sorts of advantages. WASP, decent family connections. Even got punched by The Fox."
Eric settled back in his chair. "Is it true that the final clubs send a bus around to pick up girls?"
--
Marcia is ransacking her room trying to find the take home CogSci midterm. Eduarda is supposedly better at searching for things, except she's too busy agonizing over some invitation to be any help. Marcia starts tuning her out, because Eduarda is pointless when she's like this.
Like: "Do you know that they call it the" and actually mouths the next two words like it's too scandalous to say outloud.
Or "I can't go!" followed immediately with "But I have to! It's the Bee! It's probably a test!"
And "What if I'm expected to make out with a girl right in front of them!"
Marcia kicks her laundry basket much harder than she means to, knocking over a beer can tower the height of which she had been quite proud. It's absurd that profs are allowed to keep course material offline. It's an exclusionary pedagogy; the literal denial of learning opportunities in situations of unequal access to resources. What if a student missed the handouts because they had food poisoning? Or flew out for a grandparent's funeral?
"You're probably meant to work together with other people. You know, share resources, teamwork." Eduarda is worse than no help when she gets it in her head to be sensible. It's not until Marcia comes clean about some Zuckerberg-specific details - like there being exactly one person in that class she's still on speaking terms with. And it being a modality of speech where he'll say "No way, Zuck." then laugh in her face if she asks him for help. - that Eduarda takes the lost midterm seriously. And finally stops blabbing about the stupid invitation. Then she's also doing the squinty eye thing and saying "Why don't we go check in my room. I probably have an extra copy."
They don't have any classes together this semester despite the best efforts of CourseMatch, so why Eduarda would have any extra copies of anything is a complete mystery.
Eduarda has started to mimic The Shrug. It's annoying. But not the worst thing in the world
So Marcia decides to flop down on the bed and say things like "The Bee Club is useless."
And "Everyone knows it's called that."
And "You don't have to go if you don't want to." to show she's not a total ignoramus about following conversations.
Eduarda smiles so brightly at her, she's embarrassed and needs to look away.
Eduarda goes back to pacing and to "I know it's awful but it's just too hard to turn down something that - " and on and on and on. Marcia sighs and reaches for the netbook, resigning herself to wire in for the long haul as Eduarda runs through the full gamut of the Saverin decision-making melodrama. The midterm can probably wait until the night before it's due.
--
"The Fuck-Truck." she promptly replied. "Eduarda made three hundred thousand dollars betting oil futures one summer because she likes watching the weather channel and all she got was an invite to ride the Fuck-Truck. Through the Bee. Do you know how humiliating that is?"
"Did she?" he asked.
"What, get humiliated?"
"Ride The Fuck-Truck."
Marcia stiffened. "None of your business. That's not even - " She shook herself. "What kind of question is that?"
"I was just asking." Eric fiddled with his drink.
"And I was clearly making a rhetorical point about the difficulty of trying to find something to do that's substantial enough given the supposed options I have."
"Alright, point received."
She pushed away the plate and dropped her arms in front of her. "And I'm frankly more than a bit disturbed that the mere mention of "Fuck Truck" has you standing at attention, salivating for another morsel of gossip to add to your misbegotten collection of Girls Gone Wild Harvard Edition."
"Wow... " Eric slowly shook his head. "Hold that thought about switching majors. I'd definitely suggest Comp-Lit 'cause it's pretty impressive to read that much into a simple two word follow up question."
Marcia lifted her chin derisively. "I certainly noticed and found it odd that you exhibited zero curiosity about the incongruous fact of the weather channel in Eduarda's success."
"Well, earlier you had said the money was from oil futures."
"I did and it was. From predictive modeling of heating oil costs based on long range weather forecasts." She continued in a blank voice. "But now I'm also saying it's typical that when confronted with the position of women in society, you'd rather fixate on the sexual proclivities of my best friend."
"Jesus Christ, Marcie, it's not society that's upholding the sanctity of Fuck-Trucks, it's your school specifically."
Marcia nodded like he had finally proven her right. "See, fixation."
"I was honestly just asking, OK. I was just asking to ask. Not everyone is speaking in code or able to instantly map their conversations to a truth-table - proposition, proposition, conclusion, QED."
"You're right, a large segment of society would find Fuck-Trucks repugnant." she shrugged. "It's irrelevant to me though because the pro Fuck-Truck population includes people I can't pull back from if I want to get anywhere successful."
Eric leaned in. "So lean in then. Lean in to change the power structure of our world and expand opportunities for everyone."
"Did you really say that?"
"I was kidding." He sat back.
--
"Zuckerberg."
"Marcia? Marcia! I didn't think you hooked the phone back up!"
"Then why did you call?"
"Just took a chance. A. Leap. Of. Faith."
"..."
"Marcia, listen -"
"Why are you whispering?"
"People are asleep in this room. I wanted to let you know I'm staying overnight in NYC and won't be back until tomorrow evening."
"What?"
"Some girls and I got invited to an after the after party. Party. Parrrrty."
"OK. Now I know. Later."
"Marcia, wait! Marcia!"
"..."
"Marcia? Are you still there? Marcia?"
"No."
"Marcia, please. I just wanna - "
"I have to finish a p-set."
"Marciaaa Marciaaaaa sua sabedoria."
"..."
"Marcia, I have to tell you about -"
"Look, just IM me when you're sober."
"Marcia?"
"I gotta go."
"Finnnnnne. I'll IM you."
"...
"Byyyyyye Marciaaaaa!"
"OK."
(F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: Im here! (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: Sober! (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: This is me IMing u! (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: Hey Marcia! (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: U still doin ur pset? zuck this says: finished it (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: I didnt have to kiss any1! zuck this says: congratulations (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: I met sum rly nice people! (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: 2 AEPhi girls from NYU. Sum nice Jewish boys. (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: U mite like them Marcia. :) zuck this says: fuck you (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: Lol. (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: Newez, we did this thing called Nyotamori. (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: *Nyotaimori. zuck this says: what the fuck (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: Body sushi. zuck this says: know what it is I repeat what the fuck (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: It wasnt 2 bad. zuck this says: that is so fucked up (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: Lol. I noe. (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: It was so weird. (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: A guy wanted me 2 eat a unagi roll that was way 2 close 2 her vag. (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: I was like. No. (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: Lol. (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: Maybe Im 2 frigid. zuck this says: you are not frigid last month I had to selectively hack your dorm extension when those two guys wouldn't stop bothering you and you didn't let me block them outright because it was too "harsh" (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: Marcia! (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: Lol. (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: They were so annoying. Lol. (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: Thank u sooooo much. zuck this says: you are welcome (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: Lol. (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: Mae is happy. (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: I called her. zuck this says: right after you called me (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: Lol. NO. (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: Shes like. (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: Internship 4 sure. (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: Nice Jewish boy probably. (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: Grandson possibly. (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: Lol. zuck this says: wtf you were at an event where people ate raw shellfish off the bodies of naked women (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: Lol. Ur right. (F)~Eduarda S~(F) says: Bus leavin soon. C u tonite! (F)~Eduarda S~(F) appears to be offline. Messages you send will be delivered when they sign in. --
"Let me be straightforward with you, Eric. I have no intention of leaning in, or whatever the fuck that means. But I'm also not just sitting around whining and expecting things to get better. I'm going to make things happen. And the people around me are going to be part of it. You don't have to thank me or anything, but you should at least recognize that it's something refreshing and different about me."
Eric narrowed his eyes. "So what, I should be grateful to even be around you because you're this maverick go-getter."
"Compared to the other people in your life, sure." Marcia nodded.
"You mean, unlike the usual layabouts with whom I make my acquaintance."
He had gone still, arms crossed like he'd delivered some irrefutable verdict. Marcia lost her patience. "What do you want me to say? My friends devise chess algorithms for fun while your's just get high."
"OK, I wanna be straightforward with you too." He pushed himself closer to her face and Marcia reflexively moved back then stopped, pressing her hands on the slightly sticky table surface. She hunched forward and Eric lowered his voice. "Blowing off my friends tonight for this riveting account of your Harvard ennui was the worst decision I've ever made."
Marcia sat up straight. "Really. Are you joking?"
"That's how I feel." he said impassively.
"This isn't going to work if you find our conversation less absorbing than the opportunity to get wasted with random nobodies like that girl serving us food." she said in a monotone.
"Random nobodies?" Eric asked incredulously. "That girl is a friend in my tutorial and her name is Beth."
Marcia stared back at him. "That's not exactly evidence disproving how she likely spends her free time, or the fact of her mediocrity."
"That's right, it's only BU, where anyone can get in and waste four years partying."
Marcia lifted a shoulder. "BU's not a very exclusive school. That's just a fact."
"Beth is the first in her family to attend college, and a Fulbright student, which you'd know if you were paying any attention when I introduced the two of you earlier tonight." Eric retorted.
Marcia clenched and unclenched her hands, then looked away. "Having spent time with me in the past" she said stiffly, "you probably know it requires being able to forgive my being slightly preoccupied given the stress I'm under."
"OK. I agree." Eric knocked his knuckles against the edge of the table. "I'm not good enough for you, and this isn't working. I'm sorry. We should break up and just be friends."
Marcia blinked quickly a few times, but didn't say anything. Her eyes flickered around the room. When she finally spoke, it was more towards the plate in front of her than to Eric. "I know you're trying really hard right now to jam the "it's not you it's me" incompatibility shtick into the narrative because it'll feel less like you've been judged and found wanting." She lifted her head, stony-eyed. "Get it straight. I am dumping you. Because you are a loser. And I don't want to be your friend, because even if Beth the Waitress actually ends up achieving something with her life, it'll be the exception that proves the rule."
Eric closed his eyes and rubbed at them. "I was just being polite, Marcie. I have no intention of being friends with you."
"That's good. Less leeching." Marcia shot back.
Eric didn't say anything, just took another drink. Then he slowly got up and leaned over the table above her. He put his hands firmly on her shoulders and held it down in place so she was forced to look up if she wanted to maintain eye contact. He looked very earnest, almost tender. "You're probably going to be a very successful person, Marcia. But you're gonna go through life thinking no one values you enough because you're a woman or something." He saw Marcia's eyes widening and went on. "I want you to know from the bottom of my heart that that won't be true." He paused. "It'll be because you're a bitch."
They continued to stare at each other for a moment, then Eric pushed back from the table, scraping his chair loudly. "Don't worry. I'll get the bill."
--
8:13 pm. Eric Albright is a moron. Do you think that's because he got dropped on the head a few times too many as a baby? or do you think it's because all BU guys are morons? He tries hard to be cool. But he's desperate about cramming for his courses. Most of them he bombs anyway, despite all the studying. Oops. Without a textbook in front of him telling him exactly what to think, he doesn't know his head from his ass. His idea of clever is cribbing punchlines from New Yorker cartoons. It's pitiful. And ladies, for the record, he's got nothing going on down there either. On a scale of one to ten, he’s a two. As in two-pump-chump. Disappointing. At least his face isn't completely wretched. But the truth is I should have known from the beginning he's a waste of space. I need to do something to salvage my night. Easy enough now I just need an idea... 9:48 pm. I'm a little pissed off, I'm not gonna lie. The Kirkland facebook is open on my desktop, and some of these people look pretty fucking dumb. Becky Olson's sitting here and had the idea of playing Fuck Marry Kill. Good call, Madame Olson. I think you're onto something. 11:09 pm. OK, it's on. Fuck or Kill would be easier to code, but I like the idea of a more neutral middle category. Marriage as a socio-economic arrangement is just a signifier for stability anyway. Keeping it as a triad also makes it more interesting to gamify since the ranking of one choice is not just due to the elimination of another. The first thing we need is a lot of pictures. Unfortunately, Harvard doesn't keep a public centralized facebook, so I'll have to get all the images from the individual houses that people are in.... 12:58 pm. Let the hacking begin.