Wednesday, September 4, 2002


Why do I even answer the phone?

The boss called tonight, he was cordial and funny and he joked around about what he had done that day. We shot the shit about the fish and the lady that had called looking for sponsorship from our company on a school trip without realizing that the boss was the older brother of the boy who had had a fender bender with her and was now paying to have her car fixed as well as paying for her to drive a rent-a-car. So, she probably is not going to get any money from us. It was a very pleasant call and I hung up smiling.

After he hung up I thought, �That was too good to be true�. And it was.

Ten minutes later he called back, he is very disappointed with me, someone very important had called, and he didn�t get a hold of him and now he will lose time and money. Generally conveying to me that I was an incompetent fuck, that should be shot at dawn, or at the very least be drawn and quartered.

The caller told me he had the boss�s pager number and so I said you should take his cell number too. That way you can also leave a voice message. The boss tells me that the man took this to mean that he should only call the cell phone. Clearly it is my fault since I should have known how important this man truly was, and apparently how daft. (being psychic and all)

First of all, I think it was unfair that the man had not identified himself as important. Then again, I should have known this, (even if clearly he didn�t) after all I am psychic. And I should have then paged the boss just in case the man on the phone was not just daft but also trying to deceive me by saying would page him, which he clearly was, since he didn�t, in fact, page him.

Then the boss tells me, I should know that in certain situations he does not check his cell messages, he relies on the pager. Again I should have telepathically known that indeed that situation was afoot. He continues on saying that I should have to accompany him on the job next week, drive in the drill rig and get dirty and bug eaten, so that I can truly appreciate the hell this poor soul goes through in order to finance my incompetent fuckness. He is serious.

�I think you should have to drive with me in the rig for 3 hours and sit around in the mud and the bugs for hours with the machine going so you can�t hear yourself think. We�ll do it next week�

�Ah��.no�

�Well then maybe you can just stay home?�

�Maybe I will.�

�We�ll talk about it later�

(oh no we won�t)

This man actually expects me to go with him on the drill rig. Like some child being punished. Indecently the rig only has a driver seat, the other seat is a upturned bucket. If he thinks for one minute that I am going���.he is in for a rude awakening.

And another thing�.

If he thinks he can fire me for not joining him on this idiotic venture, he has another think coming. I am pretty sure there are laws against that sort of thing.

Maybe I should just stay home, let him try and do my job for a week or two.

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