Details, part 1

Back a month or so ago, the Officer Roadshow came to town. (Roadshow: presentation by a detailer consisting of 2/3 "demystifying the process by which personnel receive assignments" and 1/3 "ask me your questions and I'll give you a blurry and entirely noncommittal answer)

I went, not because I hoped I might learn the sleight-of-hand tricks behind the Penn-and-Teller assignment act, but on the longshot chance that I might ferret out some clues to my chances of picking up something this coming year at least faintly resembling the orders I received last February, a lifetime ago.

My chances weren't all that great, of gleaning any helpful information, that is: the assignment officer putting on this particular roadshow was the Operations Ashore detailer - in short, not mine (Operations Afloat). I subscribed to the convenient fiction that all the detailers up at HQ led very "siloed" or "stovepiped" lives, immersed in moving around their personal sets of color-coded chess pieces, only speaking to each other with message slips and runners when a single candidate was pulled (or fell through the cracks) between two detailers.

I sat patiently through a few dozen PowerPoint slides of accession rates, promotion points, assignment timelines, and Officer Personnel Management wire diagrams. From all that I learned only one important point: that there was a new afloat detailer. That was cause for worry - the previous detailer had taken a tremendous chance on me, gave me my top pick, then facilitated the process as those orders so despairingly vanished and new ones at last appeared in their place. I worried about explaining my situation to a newcomer. I worried he might not be so amenable to indulging my career hopes. And I worried that, like some detailers but thankfully not all, he might be of a rather imperialistic demeanor, flush with his power and uncaring toward his minions.

After the general Q-and-A subsided, personnel lined up to ask the Ops Ashore detailer one-on-one questions - questions specific to a personal situation and unsuitable for group discussion. I was third in line. The two people ahead of me introduced themselves formally to the detailer, one by one asking him their I'm-unbelievably-stressed-about-my-oh-so-unique-common-problem questions. Detailers are not all that high-ranking, but they hold a lot of power, so you better believe you're going to be polite and deferential to them. I didn't even know where to start with this detailer. I started silently rehearsing my story, editing here and there to fit someone who didn't know my background.

It was my turn. Before I could even get out a "Good morning, sir," the detailer smiled broadly and said, "Heather! How are you doing? Good to see you here!" I was quite taken aback, pausing for at least a few moments while I quickly chopped the first section of my speech (and recast the rest). Is it good or bad for a detailer who isn't even yours to recognize you so easily? "Nothing to worry about," he reassured me. "We all discussed your case quite a bit. Just give the new afloat detailer a call once he's arrived later this summer. If he has any questions he can always ask me for a passdown on you." Now I was really unnerved. All the detailers at HQ sat around and discussed my case?? Infamy is never cause for celebration. It's like the vice principal in grade school calling you in to say, Yes, I've been discussing your case with all the staff members; we're quite familiar with you...

I uneasily waited out the weeks for the new detailer to arrive. (to be continued)