“Asymmetric Information” – MSJ 11/15/2004

The MSJ had a weekly humor column written by a group of writers under the name of “Oedipus Dreck,” and one week we decided to collaborate with them.  Here is the article they published in the same issue:

MY DATE WITH ANNA BORR

By Oedipus Dreck

This story began, as many great stories do, at the OCD. Filled with falafel and existential dread, I waited in line. I was almost to the counter when a woman in front of me became agitated: "I can't believe this company won't interview me just because I'm an imaginary student." The OCD drone was unmoved, so I joined in: "Yeah, these guys withdrew their closed list invitation after finding out I was imaginary. This is discrimination!" At the mention of the d-word, we were both cast out from the OCD and charged the Market Clearing Price for McKinsey for our sins.

And that's how I met Anna Borr. As MBAs do, we formed a bond over a common grievance. We had one more thing in common-I read her weekly cartoon religiously, and she was vaguely aware of my column. As we talked, I felt sparks fly and so invited this prospective Mrs. Oedipus Dreck to meet my parents. She wasn't quite ready for that, so we agreed on a coffee at the Espresso Royale. She then realized that she was late for the Imaginary Women in Consulting panel, and left. Smitten, I watched her run off.

During our date, Anna seemed to be concerned about something. I'm no good at reading the female body language, so I wasn't sure of the significance of her constant checking of her watch and the wall clock, as well as of the continuous tearing of the napkins, of which she quickly accumulated a sizable heap. She also stared intently at her cell phone, as if willing it to ring.

At first we hit a snag: I trotted out the best material I have been saving for the column, but she just looked at me as if I was an unauthorized insect in her coffee. I then tried a new tack: as I've been frequently accused of being self-centered, I switched the conversation to her. In an attempt to get to know her better, I asked her for her phone number, her address, her essential measurements, and her favorite They Might Be Giants album. It is approximately at this point in the conversation that she left without paying.

Using Occam's Razor (mine is in the shop this week), I came up with the most plausible explanation for her sudden departure. It is my current hypothesis that Anna became so aroused by our conversation as to lose control, and had to flee to avoid jumping my bones right then and there. Based on this, I see great things in our future, and have already sent her several dozen emails to that effect. I have also posted several pictures of her on my blog. Stay tuned, and I will continue reporting on the progress of my affair with sweet, sweet Anna Borr.