So today I’m at this interview, at the headquarters of Chicago’s hot VC firm, which funds a certain group couponing company, you know the one. The interviewer is on time, a good sign. After explaining that the environment will be “just like the social network” (the phone interviewer also referred twice to that movie), we talk about sites I’ve built, problems I’ve solved, and why I’m looking for a change. Things are going well. I’ve got skills, and I’m always a good interviewee, relaxed and confident.

[ASIDE: The year my dad died, I went a little insane and did improv. Del Close said I was a genius. I used to buy Adam McKay beers because he was poor and I thought he was funny. I once talked basketball with Sherry Rowland until wee hours over beers. I’ve hung out on Gary Comer’s yacht shooting the shit with the world’s top climatologists. I dogsat for Amy Poehler. I got the Mekons to play at my wedding. I partied with Leon Lederman who was dressed like a baby, wearing only a diaper. My husband is in a Husker Du song. I have played Charles Mingus’ bass and piano. I introduced Aleksandar Hemon to his wife. I knit Tina Fey a pair of Norwegian mittens. Sam Champion was my BFF. I babysat Tony Fitzpatrick’s son. Tavi Gevinson babysits my son. I have five different, legit, one-degree separations from the motherfucking President of the United States. Et! cet! era! I am the coolest, the smartest, the awesomest person you know. I am not flustered by anything. I belong everywhere.]

So, this interviewer, “Aaron Wise, systems manager at Benzinga” let’s call him, says to me, “We are all really young here, do you think you would be able to work with young people?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I mean, we do have a couple older people, but you’d be working with mostly young people. Are you comfortable being around young people?”

WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK. I AM FORTY THREE YEARS OLD.

“I spend a great deal of time around my son, who is 5,” I say. “So yes, I am comfortable around young people.”

“Well, we’re not that young,” he laughs at his own funny, “but we can be immature sometimes.”

Immature, Aaron? How about ignorant? Or, you know, illegal?