This is all about when a job goes wrong, when corporate America is left to run things with no responsibility whatsoever. Please feel free to comment and commiserate. I'm sure I'll be in need of a co-author to the book this just _has_ to become.

25 December 2005

The Shadow knows

This happened last week, I haven't had a spare minute to share it until now.

Rachel was on the phone with her husband, I could hear her through the cube wall. It's not unusual for us to comment in each other's conversations because you can hardly avoid hearing, but I didn't jump in on this one because she was livid. It was like 4:30 and her husband was obviously asking when she would be leaving. He insinuated that it might be at 5PM since that's supposed to be her workday, which launched a tirade in her. She laughed evilly and ranted about how Rod had come to her 10 minutes ago and told her he wanted the reports done (two hours' work, easily) before she left. And how it was unfair, but she said she'd do her best and Rod stressed that he wanted them despite the fact that she knew he wasn't going to use them for anything for another two days. She exclaimed to her husband that she was going to stay until they were done and that he was only delaying it by keeping her on the phone. They exchanged a firm "I love you" and the phone was hung up in a fashion not hard enough to be a "slam" but not even vaguely a "gentle, loving touch."

Not a full five seconds later, probably not even three, I hear Rod -- in his most Office Space-ish voice -- ask, "Um, Rachel? Um, you're going to have those reports done before you leave, right?"

Oh man. Obviously, I couldn't see what was going on over there, and the audible response was a muffled, teeth-gritted, "yes, Rod," but the flash burns in the upper corner of the room suggest to me that the only reason Rod wasn't killed by Rachel's gaze was that the part of her soul that doesn't want to do jail time for killing him took over her motor control long enough to avert the lazers from her eyes.

That part of my soul isn't that big.

If he would have walked in and had the audacity to ask about what he OBVIOUSLY just heard me shouting about on the phone, I do believe I would have tied him to my office chair and spun him like a merry-go-round while peeing on him before ripping out his tongue and slapping him with it until he shuffled off into the nether.

. o O ( Man, that was kinda vivid...I should probably get my head checked out... )

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