Today at the office, the Devil was in rare form. You see, he has a whole menu of disgusting tics and habits, which appear on a regular basis. Depending on the day and the situation, the Devil may (or may not) exhibit all of the following:
1. Ear picking: Something shaped like a probe will be inserted into the inner cavity of the Devil's ear and swept around a few times. It might be the Devil's finger or a foreign object (usually a pen cap), but the sweep is always followed by a thorough inspection of the picking instrument for anything that may be clinging to it. Then he dusts it off onto the floor of whatever room he is in.
2. Nose pulling: The Devil pushes his wire-rimmed glasses back up to his forehead, and massages the bridge of his nose. For several minutes. Does he have a headache? Is he trying to loosen the crud in his sinuses? Does he have a particularly hard and painful boogie up there? Who can tell?
3. Reading Room: The Devil will take a piece of mail or a newspaper to the "reading room" with him. He'll stay in there for a REALLY long time. Other men in the office refuse to go into the reading room while he's there, and for fifteen to twenty minutes thereafter. Then he tries to pass the document he was reading on to you. (Psst: It's not really a reading room. It's the potty.)
4. The Scratch: The Devil (who is quite tall) will lean back casually against your door while he is standing in the door frame talking to you. Then the Devil will shimmy up and down. Here's what he's doing: He has hitched himself up high enough so he can lodge the door knob (your door knob, which you have to use to open your office door) into the crack of his butt, and is using it to scratch an itch. Seriously.
5. The Juggle (alternately known as The Jiggle): I have had boyfriends explain this to me--apparently, sometimes, things get a little mixed up down below. Skin sticks to skin, which may cause some chafing, and one or another of the boys may even try to escape. Now, when this happens to most men (at least, the ones who aren't in their own homes), they make covert adjustments in the restroom or behind a closed office door. Not the Devil. Oh, no. The Devil just grabs whatever piece of clothing is nearest the offending body part, and juggles (or jiggles) vigorously. If that doesn't work, he goes right for the offending body part itself.
6. The Butt-Check: Sometimes the Devil becomes concerned that his butt has fallen off and slipped away down a pant leg. At least, it seems like that must be his concern. What he does is he reaches back and grabs a big handful. Then he'll stand there, blissfully reassured that his butt cheek is still attached, and chat away. By the way, in case you were wondering, it's usually the left butt cheek.
Today's smorgasbord? The juggle, the butt-check, and the scratch. I may never touch my door knob again.
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.
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