Chapter 3 · The Awful Blind Date

One after another, those red taillights formed lines.

"I got promoted to manager last month," I said.

My mom turned her head and looked at me. "How many subordinates do you have?"

"A product team and an outsourced team. About thirty people altogether."

"Mmm." Then, my mom added, "So what? You are still single."

The light turned green. I hit the gas and drove on.

At 9: 15 AM on Monday, the routine meeting of the product department began.

With the help of the slides, I articulated to 12 people our progress from last week and the schedule for this week within 20 minutes.

My supervisor, Andrew Owen, sat in the back row. After the meeting, he patted my shoulder and said, "Michelle, keep an eye on the new version. Give me the master plan by next Wednesday."

"Okay," I responded.

"By the way, two interns will join your team this week. Take care of them, and give me their midterm performance evaluations at the end of this month," Andrew said.

"Got it," I said. I then went back to my desk.

Holding a cup of coffee, Amy Ford came to me.

Amy, 38 years old, was the most senior staff member in the product department. She wasn't the head of the department because she considered the job exhausting.

It was known in the department that the proposal wouldn't be approved if Amy didn't nod in confirmation first.

"New interns?" Amy asked.

"They will be here on Wednesday," I replied.

"What is the story with them?"

"One is an undergraduate student from a prestigious university, and the other one is an MBA student in a good university."

"MBA?" Amy raised her eyebrows. "More often than not, this kind of student comes to make his resume look good. You had better be prepared for that."

"I see."

"By the way, you are awesome. The intern you trained last year got the highest grade in the interview for a full-time job here. Even now, the people in the HR department still talk about you."

I gave a smile. Then, I turned around and turned on my computer. Seventeen unread notifications about work popped up. That was what I did in a day.

From 9 AM to 8: 30 PM, I worked on the production schedule, inspected the products, coordinated with other departments, and found the solutions to the immediate problems.

I led a team of 30 people. My solution had helped the company save more than 100 thousand dollars last year.

All the interns I had trained got a full-time job in this company.

None of these accomplishments had much to do with my appearance.

However, all these accomplishments were not as important as a face in the eyes of my mom and Judy.

*****

It was 10 PM when I arrived home. I didn't leave the company till 9:30 PM.

I pushed the door of my apartment open and saw a sticky note on the fridge.

The note was left by my mom. [There is some soup in the fridge. Judy found you another man, 37 years old, divorced, and childless. He is an engineer. His file is on the coffee table.]

I walked over to the coffee table.

All the information about that engineer was listed on one piece of paper, including his photo, height, and properties.

In the top left-hand area of the paper, Judy left a line. [This man isn't demanding. Don't mess things up again.]

I flipped the paper over and left it on the coffee table.

I went to the kitchen. There, I drank the soup.

The soup was still warm. My mom had made it and put it in the fridge because she knew that I would come home late.

That was my mom. She cooked soup for me and left me the information of those blind dates.

She loved me, but she made me live the life she preferred.

I did the dishes, dried my hands, and checked my phone.

There were two new messages in the group chat.

Judy: [Michelle, have you read the file of that engineer? He is quite a catch.]

Mom: [Judy, Michelle will.]

I wouldn't. I set my phone down on the nightstand.

Tomorrow would be my birthday. I didn't tell anyone about it.

Nobody had remembered my birthday last year, and neither had the year before.

My mom had remembered my birthday when I turned 30 years old.

At dinner, she had said, "You are already 30 years old. Find yourself a husband as quickly as possible, or you will die alone." That had been her blessing for my birthday.

*****

Tuesday morning, I ordered myself a cup of coffee with the message, happy birthday.

The delivery guy glanced at me before he handed me the coffee.

"Happy birthday." Then, he flashed a smile at me.

"Thanks," I said.

The delivery guy was the first person to wish me happy birthday that day, and he was the only one.

Amy walked past my desk. "You don't look well. When did you sleep last night?"

"Midnight," I answered.

"Take good care of yourself," she said. She didn't ask what day it was. Nobody needed to know that it was my birthday.

During the lunch break, I found the files sent by the HR department and read them again.

Michael was an MBA student from a good university, and he had gotten his undergraduate degree from a diploma mill. His internship position was an assistant in the product department.

Three internships were listed on his resume. He had interned in some consulting firm, investment firm, and technology firm.

The words on his resume were carefully selected, such as led, promoted, and optimized.

Then, I remembered what Amy had said about the MBA students.

Chapter 3

One after another, those red taillights formed lines.

"I got promoted to manager last month," I said.

My mom turned her head and looked at me. "How many subordinates do you have?"

"A product team and an outsourced team. About thirty people altogether."

"Mmm." Then, my mom added, "So what? You are still single."

The light turned green. I hit the gas and drove on.

At 9: 15 AM on Monday, the routine meeting of the product department began.

With the help of the slides, I articulated to 12 people our progress from last week and the schedule for this week within 20 minutes.

My supervisor, Andrew Owen, sat in the back row. After the meeting, he patted my shoulder and said, "Michelle, keep an eye on the new version. Give me the master plan by next Wednesday."

"Okay," I responded.

"By the way, two interns will join your team this week. Take care of them, and give me their midterm performance evaluations at the end of this month," Andrew said.

"Got it," I said. I then went back to my desk.

Holding a cup of coffee, Amy Ford came to me.

Amy, 38 years old, was the most senior staff member in the product department. She wasn't the head of the department because she considered the job exhausting.

It was known in the department that the proposal wouldn't be approved if Amy didn't nod in confirmation first.

"New interns?" Amy asked.

"They will be here on Wednesday," I replied.

"What is the story with them?"

"One is an undergraduate student from a prestigious university, and the other one is an MBA student in a good university."

"MBA?" Amy raised her eyebrows. "More often than not, this kind of student comes to make his resume look good. You had better be prepared for that."

"I see."

"By the way, you are awesome. The intern you trained last year got the highest grade in the interview for a full-time job here. Even now, the people in the HR department still talk about you."

I gave a smile. Then, I turned around and turned on my computer. Seventeen unread notifications about work popped up. That was what I did in a day.

From 9 AM to 8: 30 PM, I worked on the production schedule, inspected the products, coordinated with other departments, and found the solutions to the immediate problems.

I led a team of 30 people. My solution had helped the company save more than 100 thousand dollars last year.

All the interns I had trained got a full-time job in this company.

None of these accomplishments had much to do with my appearance.

However, all these accomplishments were not as important as a face in the eyes of my mom and Judy.

*****

It was 10 PM when I arrived home. I didn't leave the company till 9:30 PM.

I pushed the door of my apartment open and saw a sticky note on the fridge.

The note was left by my mom. [There is some soup in the fridge. Judy found you another man, 37 years old, divorced, and childless. He is an engineer. His file is on the coffee table.]

I walked over to the coffee table.

All the information about that engineer was listed on one piece of paper, including his photo, height, and properties.

In the top left-hand area of the paper, Judy left a line. [This man isn't demanding. Don't mess things up again.]

I flipped the paper over and left it on the coffee table.

I went to the kitchen. There, I drank the soup.

The soup was still warm. My mom had made it and put it in the fridge because she knew that I would come home late.

That was my mom. She cooked soup for me and left me the information of those blind dates.

She loved me, but she made me live the life she preferred.

I did the dishes, dried my hands, and checked my phone.

There were two new messages in the group chat.

Judy: [Michelle, have you read the file of that engineer? He is quite a catch.]

Mom: [Judy, Michelle will.]

I wouldn't. I set my phone down on the nightstand.

Tomorrow would be my birthday. I didn't tell anyone about it.

Nobody had remembered my birthday last year, and neither had the year before.

My mom had remembered my birthday when I turned 30 years old.

At dinner, she had said, "You are already 30 years old. Find yourself a husband as quickly as possible, or you will die alone." That had been her blessing for my birthday.

*****

Tuesday morning, I ordered myself a cup of coffee with the message, happy birthday.

The delivery guy glanced at me before he handed me the coffee.

"Happy birthday." Then, he flashed a smile at me.

"Thanks," I said.

The delivery guy was the first person to wish me happy birthday that day, and he was the only one.

Amy walked past my desk. "You don't look well. When did you sleep last night?"

"Midnight," I answered.

"Take good care of yourself," she said. She didn't ask what day it was. Nobody needed to know that it was my birthday.

During the lunch break, I found the files sent by the HR department and read them again.

Michael was an MBA student from a good university, and he had gotten his undergraduate degree from a diploma mill. His internship position was an assistant in the product department.

Three internships were listed on his resume. He had interned in some consulting firm, investment firm, and technology firm.

The words on his resume were carefully selected, such as led, promoted, and optimized.

Then, I remembered what Amy had said about the MBA students.