This actually happened:
Before he became my boss, the Devil was just an annoying gadfly. He liked to buzz around, listening in on conversations, dipping into other people's meetings, and offering unsolicited (and unwelcome) comments. Back in those halcyon days, I had a real boss. She could express herself without using phrases like "the actual reality is," and she was both fun and a great leader.
One morning, Glinda the Good Boss and I were having a private conversation in her office. We were going over my work so she could offer her critique--okay, I was telling her about a dream I had had the previous night involving another coworker whose overall sex appeal is nothing short of cataclysmic. We'll call him Johnny Depp.
So, I was telling Glinda about this really hot Johnny Depp dream, and suddenly we both noticed movement through the tiny slit of a crack that her door was open. It's the Devil--er, the gadfly. He was "waiting for a good moment to interrupt (heh-heh)," he says when confronted about his blatant nosiness.
All of this is annoying, yes, but not really Devilish. But then . . .
I was working in my office late that evening when the gadfly stopped by. I was annoyed to see him smiling his smarmy, gadfly smile. Then he sidled into my office, and closed the door. My annoyance evaporated, and was replaced by growing discomfort. The gadfly parked himself on the edge of my desk and proceeded to tell me that he won't let the fact that I was having (ahem) sexy dreams about him (him!) affect our working relationship and that I shouldn't feel embarassed about it. After all, it's only natural, we spend a great deal of time together, and it's not the first time this has happened to him.
Okay, so, that's gross, I thought. Johnny Depp, he's not. He's fifteen years older than I am, has an unattractive receding hairline (think Dennis Franz, not Chris Meloni), and baked-bean teeth. Also, he has the really distrubing habit of picking at his ears and then looking at his fingernails. So I told him that he had misunderstood what he heard. He smiled, and nodded, and I knew he thought I was just trying to save face by lying. Then the vacuum cleaner guy knocked on the door, and I took the opportunity to escape without insisting that the gadfly was wrong.
The most galling part of all of this is that I KNOW he remembers, and has told the story about how I had a crush on him. Still, it could be worse. Sometimes, I wake up in a cold sweat, wondering what would have happened if the vacuuming guy hadn't chosen that moment to knock on my door. Attaboy.
Once upon a time, I was young and naive . . .
Like every good fairy tale with a beautiful princess (me) and an evil villain (the Devil), this story begins with a once upon a time.
Once upon a time, I was young and naive. I believed that, while there might be evil people in the world, I wouldn't run in to many of them. Then I met my current boss.
He wasn't even my boss when I met him. He had been lurking for some time in the underbrush at my employer, making other people's lives miserable. My co-workers would complain about him, telling outrageous stories about how difficult he was, what a control freak he could be, how he would make a simple meeting scheduled to last for thirty minutes into a half-day of mindless droning interspersed with fiery ranting. I would laugh and laugh. I thought: What whiners. What babies. He can't be that bad.
Then the ax fell on my wonderful, understanding, hardworking boss, and the Devil showed up, throwing away her potted plants and shredding anything that looked like it might complicate his job. Of course, he didn't really know how things worked, so he turned to me. He promised me pretty things, like a promotion and a raise, a title, an office, and my own secretary, if I could help him make sense of his new responsibilities. I was already in a weakened condition, because I missed my old boss. So I took his proferred apple, and became Eve, fallen from grace and ensnared by the Devil.
I've had 2500 days with the Devil. That's 26o work days a year, for 11+ years. For each year, subtract 1 actual sick day and 9 mental health days [110], three weeks of vacation [165], and 8 holidays (New Year's Day, Presidents' Day, Memorial Day, July 4, Labor Day, Thanksgiving (2 days), and Christmas) [88], and you get 2500 days.
Of course, if this really were a fairy tale, there would be a tidy little ending where the Devil would get his comeuppance and I (or at least someone) would get to live happily ever after. I'm working on it, believe me. But in the meantime, misery loves company. So meet the Devil. You're gonna love working for him.
Once upon a time, I was young and naive. I believed that, while there might be evil people in the world, I wouldn't run in to many of them. Then I met my current boss.
He wasn't even my boss when I met him. He had been lurking for some time in the underbrush at my employer, making other people's lives miserable. My co-workers would complain about him, telling outrageous stories about how difficult he was, what a control freak he could be, how he would make a simple meeting scheduled to last for thirty minutes into a half-day of mindless droning interspersed with fiery ranting. I would laugh and laugh. I thought: What whiners. What babies. He can't be that bad.
Then the ax fell on my wonderful, understanding, hardworking boss, and the Devil showed up, throwing away her potted plants and shredding anything that looked like it might complicate his job. Of course, he didn't really know how things worked, so he turned to me. He promised me pretty things, like a promotion and a raise, a title, an office, and my own secretary, if I could help him make sense of his new responsibilities. I was already in a weakened condition, because I missed my old boss. So I took his proferred apple, and became Eve, fallen from grace and ensnared by the Devil.
I've had 2500 days with the Devil. That's 26o work days a year, for 11+ years. For each year, subtract 1 actual sick day and 9 mental health days [110], three weeks of vacation [165], and 8 holidays (New Year's Day, Presidents' Day, Memorial Day, July 4, Labor Day, Thanksgiving (2 days), and Christmas) [88], and you get 2500 days.
Of course, if this really were a fairy tale, there would be a tidy little ending where the Devil would get his comeuppance and I (or at least someone) would get to live happily ever after. I'm working on it, believe me. But in the meantime, misery loves company. So meet the Devil. You're gonna love working for him.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment