October 13, 2009
Outing Myself To My Boss... and the World, Apparently
Last week, my boss attended a big, huge, important muckity-muck meeting in D.C. He ate dinner in the Benjamin Franklin State Room. The guest list included princes and His Beatitudes and the like. He practically got noseprints on the Treaty of Paris.
I tell ya, there is NO living with him now. This was him last week, baiting me from his cubicle across the hall. (We have a lot of conversations at decible levels inappropriate for the office.)
Boss: Did I tell you that Tony Blair is gonna be there?
PW: Four times. Hey, get his autograph for me!
Boss: Bill Clinton's gonna be there, too.
PW: You can skip Bill's autograph.
Boss: ... You're a republican, aren't you?
PW: Yes.
Boss: [huge eyeroll]
PW: Don't you roll your eyes at me!
Boss: [laughs] How did you know???
PW: And don't make some blanket assumptions about who I am just because of the way I vote. I get enough of that shit around here.
Boss: [still laughing] I'm sure you do!
PW: Don't make me come over there.
Boss: [laughing harder]
PW: I mean it! You couldn't handle half of me!
Boss: [stops laughing] I know.
I also told him to bring me a present. So I got this!
Event-specific chocolate is WAAAAAAAAAY better than a White House spoon!