June 29, 2010
Updating the Loose Ends: Part I
And by "loose end," I don't mean Heather's butt.
Thanks, folks! I'm here all week! Two shows on Saturday!
(Heather, don't pout. You know I'd eat dinner off your ass, if you'd let me.)
Anyhoo, here's the low-down on what's abuzz at Wenchie's Workplace, but keep the low-down on the down-low, Internets. Yeah, I'm lookin' at you!
Following Barry's tactless instructions, I went on vacation and was merrily absent from work for three days. In that time, Head Boss handled Ol' Beady Eyes with great aplomb.
Barry's first and last mistake of the day was walking into Head Boss' office, tossing PhD Boss' expense report on the desk, and demanding, "What is it with this guy?"
A move made even stupider when you know how much higher up on the food chain Head Boss is than Barry.
Head Boss then carefully and condescending explained to Barry that he doesn't have time to comb through PhD's receipts and check for excessive tipping or five-dollar mystery charges. "How much money are we ultimately talking about here?"
"Thirteen dollars."
"I will tell PhD to be more careful in the future. And YOU," he tossed the paper back at Barry. "Process this as it is."
And the only thing more awesome that Head Boss' shutting down of Barry was how tickled he was when describing it to me upon my return. Hee!
The Invitation
Even though he's not at work, PhD still calls me at least twice a day. Mind you, 90% of the time, he has no actual information -- he's just calling to "check in" and see if I "need anything." Jeebus, if I didn't know better, I'd think he has a crush on me.
During one of these calls, he sprang this on me:
"So I was thinking. I should have you and Husband over for a BBQ or something sometime. It could be just the four of us -- you, me, Husband and Girlfriend. Cuz, you know, we're grown adults. I think we could do that."
I just... don't even know about the "grown adult" comment, nor do I care to speculate. It's just so... it's like he's an alien life form trying to learn how to be human.
While he was talking, my brain was screaming
DEAR GOD, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!
But my mouth was saying, "Yeah, sure, that'd be great!"
Thank God I have a shred of self-preservation.
When I hung up, I immediately turned to Alpha, "PhD wants me and Husband to go to his house for a BBQ!"
She must have recognized the panic in my eyes, and she assured me, "Oh, don't worry. He invites everyone over to his house. But he always cancels at the last minute. One year, he called off our department Christmas party the day before!"
I hope she's right. I can imagine few things more awkward than BBQing with PhD.
Interview
If you happen to read this prior to 10:30 a.m. CDT today (Tuesday), please send good ju-ju my way. I am interviewing for another position in a different department. It's a department I have temped in three times before. Why three times? Because I won their hearts, and twice just wasn't enough!
What with all the down-sizing around here, the position I've applied for is actually a compilation of the three positions that I temped in! I KNOW! The job was MADE for me!
Frankly, I should just be able to walk in the building tomorrow, pack my desk, and take all my shit up one floor to my new job. And the people in that department have unanimously declared their desire to see me do just that!
However, there are pesky, bureaucratic hoops to jump through. And a very racist H.R. Troll #2 to get past. Sadly, despite Norwegians being constantly depicted as raping, pilliaging, horned-helmut-wearing barbarians, I'm not sufficiently downtrodden enough to be a minority.
Also? My skin's as white as Christmas snow. More also? The only words I can say in Spanish will either get me a beer or make you blush.
I was really freaking over this interview for a while, but now I feel like -- well, she's either decided to let them hire me, or to throw up every red-tape roadblock that she can think of. And whichever it is, it's already set in her mind. So why sweat it?
But that doesn't mean you shouldn't make with the ju-ju. After all, my employer is in the business of miracles, right?
Fingers and toes crossed, my flying monkeys...
Comments
Maybe Ph.D. boss is a swinger?
Posted by: Hope at June 30, 2010 09:23 AM