Midnight Cowboy

I'm working late. Like really late. Right now.

I'm in the employ of an online division of a sizable fashion retailer, who happens to be having its largest sale of the year beginning at midnight tonight. At ten o'clock, we will yank down our standard website, and slap up a specially branded sale site, which is expected to go live at 12AM.

Believe it or not, millions of customers anxiously await this witching hour, and many of our most popular items will sell out within minutes of the sale's inception. My job tonight is to be on hand to swap out new imagery on freshly designed pages to replace the ghosts of sold-out handbags, shoes, apparel and accessories.

Is what I do rocket science? Nope.

Do I like coming in at four in the afternoon and leaving at three in the morning? Not really.

Do I enjoy the pizza, soda, chips, cookies, red vines, cupcakes and lattes that the company provides? Yes. I do.

Do I care that they also provide fruit and veggie platters? No, I do not.

Am I going to stop asking and answering my own questions? Yes.

It's odd to be in the office when you're usually not. The cleaning people shuffle through, silently dusting and emptying. Voices carry across the cubicles, but they sound more muted, while laughter assumes a maniacal quality due to the fatigue behind it. Conversations are deeper and more meaningful, until about ten.

It feels a bit like a slumber party, where everyone's had too much sugar, except I don't remember slumber parties where my feet retained water.

So if you happen to be sitting around the house at midnight, feeling bored and under clothed, please visit our awesome website. I won't mention our name, but it does rhyme with "fordstrom got mom."