Today is November 1, 2010 and in 12 days, Bambi will be gone. Cue an HBCU marching band, the funkiest Junkyard Band go-go groove you can find or a 90 minute disco track. It’s so close that I can taste it. However, there is still plenty of time for her to completely remove all traces of the fragile sanity that I desperately to hold on to. In case you have no idea what I’m talking about, Bambi is the young lady that is helping out in my office. You can read about her inability to conquer simple office tasks here.
A few a you begged for more stories from the dumb side, so I will oblige. Hopefully, blogging about her and trying to find a way to smile through the frustration will help me avoid an assault charge. (If not, ya’ll are witnesses for my insanity defense.) Last week was a particularly trying week here and by Friday, she had worked my last good nerve. I had my ipod playing a gospel playlist in order to calm myself and she actually tried to talk OVER the music. WTH?? Dude, I’m trying to drown your elementary banter out. Stop talking to me!!!
When she first started, I gave her a list of important people and information. You know, the bosses husband, the names of her children, names of their respective schools and offices, etc. Well, since she has arrived, I’ve found myself half listening while on my own phone conversations so that I can keep an ear open to her end of whatever conversation she’s in. Whether in person or on the phone, she’s bound to give erroneous or idiotic information. I usually have to wave my hand and intervene.
The main line to our office rings and she answers. Of course I can only hear her side of the conversation, but that’s usually enough to let me know she needs me to intervene. It’s Friday and I’m drained, so I decide to this one play out.
Bambi: Good morning, director’s office. How can I help you?
Bambi: Oh hi Kabuki. No, your mom is in a meeting. Can I take a message for her?
**listening and intently scribbling on a message pad**
Bambi: Ok, I’ll give her the message. Take care!
A few seconds later, she takes the pink message slip into my bosses office. I’m not even going to tell you everything that I already know is wrong, just based on the one side of the conversation that I can hear. 20 minutes later, my boss returns from her meeting and within 5 seconds calls my direct line.
Boss: Get in here.
I grab my memo book and pen, and head into her office. Others might have quaked in their boots, but I wasn’t worried at all.
A word about my boss – I love her! She is truly the best boss I’ve ever worked for. She’s one of the smartest and most accomplished people I’ve ever met, but she is grounded and very “human”. Know what I mean? She reminds me of my mother and all my aunts. She’s originally from the Bronx, so watching her interact with the big boys is amazing. She can slice and dice them with kindness and intellect, so smoothly that they don’t even realize they’ve been eviscerated. And, when necessary, she’ll cuss you slam out in a NY minute. She’s big on integrity and she demands your best. As long as you’ve given it your all, she’ll have your back in any situation.
I close the door and she can barely contain her irritation.
MrsTDJ: Yes Ma’am?
Boss: Really? She’s this stupid?
She thrusts the pink message slip across the desk at me. Wow, just wow. I don’t know where to start, so I took a picture of the message for visual evidence. Ya’ll know the camera on my blackbe.rry sucks, so do your best with the image.
WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?????
There are so many problems that I don’t know where to start. Hmm, let’s see:
- WHY ARE YOU WRITING IN ALL CAPITALS?????? DIDN’T ANYONE EVER TELL YOU THAT IT WAS RUDE AND INAPPROPRIATE???? YOU’RE PRACTICALLY SCREAMING AT YOUR BOSS!!!!
- My boss NEVER, EVER goes by Dr. E. What is she, your pal? Her last name is only 5 letter long. Write it out!
- Her daughter’s name is Kiajoki. Yes, her name is African, but I’ve given you an information sheet. Use it! Better yet, while she was on the phone, ask her to spell it. Don’t freaking guess!! What is this charades? “Um, sounds like cuckoo”
- She is her step-daughter and in the five years that I’ve worked her, she has NEVER referred to my boss as her mother. No friction, but her mother is alive and well. Her father married my boss when Kiajoki was 7. So now, you’re using selective hearing??? If she said step-mother (which I know she did), write step-mother!
- Columbia, AFRICA?? Really Bambi?? Columbia, AFRICA?? Where exactly is that located? Halfway between Annapolis, AFRICA and Baltimore, AFRICA?? Is that anywhere near your hometown of IDIOTVILLE, AMERICA??? She’s in Gambia, Bambi. An actual country in Africa. Gambia.
- Her damn stepdaughter is making an international call during the middle of the day. Do I really have to tell you to interrupt her meeting to give her the opportunity to take the call? Since we have email, text and facebook, clearly she actually wanted to SPEAK to her. Doesn’t make it an emergency, but common sense would dictate that you give boss lady the option to talk or call her back.
Ya’ll, she’s slowly yet steadily killing me in teeny, tiny increments. I feel less intelligent just sitting here everyday. Who wants to play words with friends with me on my ipod touch?? My username is MrsTDJ. Help me feel smart again!