Wednesday, August 31, 2005

Puppy.. scared?

First time? Start here. Read "The Primer" and follow the link at the end. Chronological order makes more sense for the stories.

Female Boss is in the "dog area" that happens to have a pair of swinging doors to allow for more accidents and close calls at the work place, including a slightly increased percent chance at maiming one of the poor canines. I have suggested several times that they need to put the two doors on some regular hinges as both Male Boss and Female Boss have had some bigtime close calls with smashing doors into each other's faces. This falls on deaf ears as do most suggestions that hover in the realm of intelligent solution.

Onward. Puppy is out and about prancing and following around Female Boss. Into the kitchen they go for a quick bite. I hear the usually growling and snarling between the three animals fighting for scraps of food and Female Boss acting like that it is normal behavior. Pigfoot is the most verbose when it comes to his food. He barks and growls discontently due to the fact that one of the other dogs is being fed while he is choking his portion down. I hear Pigfoot's paws and nails clacking on the tile flooring with very sharp snarls. Usually this means he is lunging and biting at Puppy. Again, to Female Boss this is normal behavior and there is nothing to be alarmed about. No blood is being spilled so it is tolerated. The thing is, Pigfoot is no joke, you don't want to cross him when he gets in a pissed off mood. Finally, I hear Puppy yelp in fear. Female Boss seperates The One and Pigfoot from Puppy, obviously due to a misfire in one of her synapses.

Puppy is back to being a happy camper. Female Boss gets a phone call so I direct her attention back into the office. She asks me to place her call on hold as she washes her hands and gets Puppy to follow her back into the office. The hinged door swings open and abruptly halts and I hear Puppy yipe very loudly.

"Whoa, is she okay?" I ask.

The answer I get is both honest and credible, "I think she got scared that I was going to leave her alone in the kitchen."

I'm dumbfounded.

Puppy comes into the office limping. Asshole.

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

Spelling Bee Part 2

First time? Start here. Read "The Primer" and follow the link at the end. Chronological order makes more sense for the stories.

Who would have thought that I would have another story about this topic in such succession and who really cares..

Its about noon. Female Boss is reviewing a proposal letter to a potential new client that introduces all of us to the company in question. Now whenever Male Boss writes the first draft of these letters it is peppered with terrible grammar and misspellings. Hmm, this is a huge understatement, lets try it again.. its more like trying to proof read a 2nd grade ESL student writing an essay on taxation.

Male and Female Boss have been in business together for about 15 years now, more or less. While proofreading Male Boss' work, Female Boss turns to me in disgust, "He doesn't know how to spell my name.."

"Male Boss?" I ask.

"Yeah, that piece of shit can't spell my name. Its embarrassing."

I start to laugh and shake my head.

With perfect timing, Male Boss comes out of the back of the house wearing skimpy spotted underwear. Yes underwear, colored and spotted, elastic-banded skimpies. Let me remind you he is European-ish and I don't think I have mentioned before, we have a sauna at this investment property that he loves to use when he has free time.. that or when he feels like neglecting work, which is more often than when he has free time.

So here he is, wearing virtually nothing and wading into a scalding pool of verbal abuse without knowing it. For all intents and purposes we'll say Female Boss' name is Janet. Here we go:

"Male Boss, how do you spell my name?" she starts with an echoing shout.

"I know how is spells your name," says Male Boss.

"Really? Spell it."

"Janet? Come on. Zis is stupid."

"Spell it you stupid piece of shit!" she yells again.

"G - I - N, no wait. G - I - N - I - T. Janet," he says proudly.

"I hate you, I hope you collapse in the sauna."

Monday, August 29, 2005

I'm Dying Here

First time? Start here. Read "The Primer" and follow the link at the end. Chronological order makes more sense for the stories.

This is going down as an all time classic. Male Boss has been having a problem with his Direct TV satellite lately. For almost a week the signal has been jacked up a good percentage of the time and they also haven't applied some sort of package that he bought to watch soccer.

Last week, a Direct TV guy (Technician) was supposed to come out and scout the problem and fix it. Technician never showed so Male Boss was pretty bent. This morning Technician was supposed to be here at 8am, he still hasn't showed. Male Boss takes things into his own hands and calls up Direct TV to get Technician's actual phone number. Just before he gets Technician on the phone, we get a series of client calls that require his immediate attention.

Male Boss and I line em up and knock em down. He has a few leads that he has to call but puts them on the back burner because Direct TV is still on the brain. Its very difficult for him to move on until something is resolved. So Male Boss makes the call. Technician doesn't answer his cell phone. The voicemail message starts and I can hear Male Boss kickstart the anger.

"This fucking guy. Doesn't answers nothing from calls that come in."

He gets to his feet and starts pacing while holding a sheet of paper in his hand waving it around audibly, "I'm gonna kill him."

Begin voicemail message, "Yes hi, this is Male Boss, you were supposed to be at my properties last week and something this morning. You know I have a business to run and don't have time to be fucked around with by an irresponsible ass like you. Either you show up at my house or you don't come but I wanna know."

An awkward pause occurs for about 3 seconds.

"I think I have the wrong number."

I hear him click the phone off.

Male Boss' voice is a whisper, "What the fuck, I called the wrong fucking number? Did I?"

I pretend to be concerned, "Hit re-dial and check." If in fact he dialed someone else it would have to be a lead on a potential client.. nothing else would make sense. Obviously, this isn't the type of screw up you want on a lead, especially since Male Boss said his name on the voicemail. The likely scenario could very well be that the sheet of paper in his hand with the numerous numbers scrawled about it may have deceived him.

Male Boss takes my advice and hits re-dial.

"FUCK!" echoes through the office. "Fucking fuck!"

I think he dialed the wrong number.

Sunday, August 28, 2005

Another Normal Day

First time? Start here. Read "The Primer" and follow the link at the end. Chronological order makes more sense for the stories.

Female Boss spent the night at the investment property. Usually when she stays overnight here that means she is taking it easy kinda like a semi-vacation. She is in her bathroom blow drying her hair. It usually takes her from 8:45am when I get to work to about noon to be ready. You know, ready.. to look good enough to sit in front of the computer for the rest of the day.

Its a little before noon and Male Boss is getting ready to leave. He starts yelling at Female Boss for her to turn off her blow dryer. Female Boss can definitely hear him as he is right outside the door screaming loud enough to get Demonseed to start screeching loudly.

"What the fuck!? I know you can hear me! Answer me and turn offs the blow dryer!"

Eventually she does.

"Okay, I have some duties for you to do today," lectures Male Boss.

No answer from Female Boss. I can picture her rolling her eyes in anticipation of what Male Boss is about to say. This is the typical response from her whenever he is spouting off about something. His "duties" were short and sweet and nothing but a classic (read as: normal) topic of conversation from Male Boss.

"The One took a great shit in the kitchen so clean that up and feed him something nice."

Male Boss ends with that and takes his leave.

I admit I did have a lack of interest to take a gander even though he decided to use the adjective "great" to describe the pile of dog shit in the kitchen. Next time my curiosity may get the better of me. Really though, its the cerebral discussions like these that make me value not only my brain cell count but the fact that I get paid to listen to such insanity. Anyway, it was obviously worth delaying his departure to be sure to get Female Boss' attention and then make her listen intently to what he had to say. I love my job.

Off topic slightly but never totally: I gave a call to Shaft, regular Angry Timer, and let him listen to The One yelping non-stop yesterday. Female Boss was some 20 yards away and for a solid 20 minutes, and Shaft as my witness, the dog did not shut up the whole time.

Thursday, August 25, 2005

"I pushed the fucking phones offs!"

First time? Start here. Read "The Primer" and follow the link at the end. Chronological order makes more sense for the stories.

Well Male Boss is a guru of technology and by that I mean an idiot savant when it comes to technology. One of the cordless phones located next to Male Boss is humming, indicating that a phone call has been holding for a prolonged period of time. The humming goes on for about 5 minutes going off every 20 secs or so for a good 5 secs at a time. It was getting pretty annoying but it represents how fragile the balance is in the office until the tipping point is reached.

Female Boss, working on another computer with her back to him, turns around and shouts, "Fix your fucking phone you retard, can't you hear that its trying to tell you something's wrong!?"

Game on.

Male Boss ignores her. Female Boss throws a paper clip at the back of his head after hearing it go off a few more times. In his thick Communist accent Male Boss says, "What? What the fuck you want me to do about the phone!?"

Female boss stares him down and with the sluggish speed of a methodical murderer says, "Turn off your God damn phone!"

Male boss starts mashing the keypad with calculated idiocy. "I pushed the fucking phones offs!"

The "phones" starts to ring, he can't answer it as he has to clear the call on hold first. He hurls the phone full force to the marble flooring smashing it everywhere. At this point my stomach is cramped from holding in laughter.

"What the hell is the matter with you? Your cholesterol is going to your brain," announces Female Boss.

"The phones fucking ranged!" he quips back.

"Demonseed (the bird) can speak better english than you."

Female boss wins and another paragraph is written for the codex of work time history.

Now why didn't I defuse the problem and cancel the held call as it started? The preceding is exactly why. Love it.

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Female Boss Mutterings

First time? Start here. Read "The Primer" and follow the link at the end. Chronological order makes more sense for the stories.

We have student style seating here in the office, side by side, sometimes too close it feels as more often than I care to admit I find myself catching Female Boss muttering under her breath some of the most random and even disturbing things. Here's a few I have written down in the past week or so:

"I need some more of that brown stuff." - I don't even wanna know.

"Wow that valium really works." - A statement like that goes over like a fart in church at this point.

"Remember what they said on 60 minutes?" - A pointed question to her imaginary friend I take it.

"That fucking photograph." - She said this as calm as could be.

"I have to neuter Pigfoot." - :(

"There was urine everywhere." - While writing an e-mail to someone.

The sad part is when I first started working here I would actually try to answer/comment or ask her to repeat what she said because I thought she was talking to me. She would almost never respond when I would acknowledge her mutterings. Its all very odd.

Hahahah just now! "Who took a doo doo there?"

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

For the Ladies

First time? Start here. Read "The Primer" and follow the link at the end. Chronological order makes more sense for the stories.

So today, the Small Business company we order office supplies from came in a little late. I am doing my thing organizing and putting the crap away and restocking. Right next to the office is a sitting room with Male Boss' patent leather couch mentioned in this post and a TV. Male Boss is chillin' watching TV per the norm when he gets back from seeing clients. Pigfoot and Puppy are running around, I grab Pigfoot and put him back cuz he is attacking a pillow and even though I don't care, I don't feel like allowing it to happen. I guess I have a conscience after all.

So, Puppy is now laying on the couch with Male Boss, I see this cuz as I walk back and forth in the office I have a clear view of the sitting room. Like I said, I'm doing my thing and I hear Male Boss whispering something. I find it odd as all the phones are in the office at the moment. I kinda stop and listen for a sec.

"Yeah, Puppy, that's it."

A few seconds later he starts again, "Do it, Puppy."

I'm thinking to myself What the hell?

Before my imagination can run with it the phone rings, I go to answer it. Its for Male Boss. I have already forgotten what I was hearing coming out of his mouth.

I go in to bring him the phone. Puppy is latched onto his arm and full force dry humping his arm. He is loving it. I kinda do a double take cuz he was talking dirty to her. Before answering the phone he looks up at me, pulls his arm away from the dog clearly not embarrassed in the least and says:

"Its her only pleasure."

Thursday, August 18, 2005

Spelling Bee

First time? Start here. Read "The Primer" and follow the link at the end. Chronological order makes more sense for the stories.

Its Friday folks, lets make this one short and sweet.

Frustration looms in the workplace. Phones are ringing and Male Boss is getting what our clients call "distresses." Distresses are basically clients that have urgent matters that need to be attended to as soon as possible. Usually it results from a miscommunication as one message filters through four or five people before arriving at the end party. Distresses that I cannot handle suck bcuz, like with everything else, Male Boss procrastinates and then stresses himself out when all the shit is splattered and crustifying on the walls well after it has hit the fan.

So the morning goes.. hectic, frantic and extremely loud. Female Boss is watching on, doing bupkis to help her foreign counterpart. Two hours later the madness ends as every distress is met and the phone stops ringing with requests.

"Fuck!" Male Boss yells in victory.

"Fuck man, fuck! Fuck. I am sick of this shits! Fuck!" Male Boss goes on.

Male Boss grabs his car keys and starts to head for the door to go see a client. As he is leaving, "Female Boss, how do you spell fuck?"

No answer from Female Boss.

"F - E - , no, F - U - C - K? Right?"

I am laughing at this point.

"Right, Northe?"

"Yes, sir," I say.

"Very good."

Male Boss leaves.

As HMT says, "Its Friday, get the beers in."

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Office Calls

First time? Start here. Read "The Primer" and follow the link at the end. Chronological order makes more sense for the stories.

A big part of the business is calling and maintaining relationships with our clients. Initial ice breaker conversations, follow up calls and shooting the breeze. All this is vital in keeping a happy client and phone etiquette with personality are key. Its bad enough being bothered with a phone call so making sure you can make 'em laugh and/or talk about something significant builds the bond. That said, let's remember where I work.

Some mornings, Male Boss has wicked phlegm. Apparently its not just that thick sticky waddy kind, its the stringy gelatinous strain that just won't move up or down enough to expel itself from his throat. This is the recipe for some of the most vile sounds I have heard come from the human body but it also makes for hilarity.

Male Boss is placing a phone call, its roughly 11am. Its been a great morning for me so far. I'm handling my thing in the office and Male Boss takes a seat on the patent leather couch, kicks his feet up on the dark oak coffee table. He reclines back and slouches down like a pimp holding a new client folder in one hand and one of our cordless phones in the other. Male Boss is putting on his game face, you see the first call to a client is crucial and depending on what business they are in you have to roleplay it a certain way. He dials the numbers with a cocky spring in his finger.

No answer. At this point you have to decide on whether or not a message is that important.. first time client, you bet it is. Set the tone, let them know who you are, how they can reach you and all is good. Basic everyday thing in our line of work.

Male Boss yanks his feet off the coffee table and pulls his elbows onto his knees ready to leave his message.

"Hello this is echechchchehchch." Phlegm vibrates in his throat as he tries to clear it.

"Sorry, I had something in my throat, this is chcheehhcchehchhchcch." The phlegm bubbles and shifts but doesn't budge.

"Sorry, ehchchehchchehchhchchh."

Male Boss hangs up.

"Fuck!" he yells, "My God damn throat!"

"Eehcchcehhhchchcehch," he clears his throat thoroughly this time.

Now with a distinct accent like his he has to change the game plan. He doesn't want to be affiliated with the previous caller that totally made a fool of himself on a company voicemail. Lucky it wasn't a cell phone with Call ID. He goes for the voice disguise, which in his case is shoddy at best but better than nothing.

Male Boss dials, phone rings, voicemail picks up.

Lowering his voice, "Hi this is Male Boss calling you from Company Name. We received echeehchehchhcchchehchh."

The gig is up. He got his name out and the phlegm just wrecked him. I hear paper fly up into the air and land all around him. He hangs up the phone fuming mad.

My stomach cramps from holding in laughter. Great start to a day.

Thursday, August 11, 2005

Mandolin: For The Win!

First time? Start here. Read "The Primer" and follow the link at the end. Chronological order makes more sense for the stories.

Typical of Female Boss fashion she goes on her spurts and kicks of trying to better herself. I guess we all do but some are so random. More on those stories another time.

Let me expound on her random thoughts, the whole "Bean Thing" phenomenon sprouted from her New Year's Resolution of eating more exotic and "festive meals" whatever the fuck that means. Typical New Year's Resolution right? Of course!

This particular kick was not random tho, just amusing. So, when Female Boss' brother came to visit last year, he had mentioned that he wanted to start playing in his folk band again. Supposedly he played with them for about 15 years and was quite good.

Ol' Female Boss, she really is a nice person, thought it would be a great idea to buy a Mandolin and practice so by the time he comes back next year it would be a treat to play for him.. what a heart. So for the next 3 days she is playing for about two hours a day, while I am at work, teaching herself from a book. Now I don't know the first thing when it comes to playing/reading music let alone what the hell a mandolin is good for but it was pretty interesting and didn't sound horrible. I decided to feign interest and encourage her during one of her breaks.

"So, Female Boss, you plan on finding a teacher and taking lessons?"

Female Boss looks at me like I am crazy. So much for trying to be nice and logical at the same time.

A few days later, during a mandolin practice session, The Professional comes into the office. He's extremely excited to see her playing the mandolin. I mean his enthusiasm is downright unmatched. Apparently, The Professional was a pimp mandolin player back in Germany! Is there anything this guy can't do?

(Remember Arnold accent) "Oh this is absolutely great, just great. Please, please my dear, allow me to show you some pointers. First of all move to the other room, the ceilings are higher you will hear the music that much better."

Female Boss is threatened by his advances for some reason and is reluctant to accepting/listening to his advice. Head case? Yeah. The Professional offers again giving some additional sound tips. Female Boss reluctantly accepts.

So the story goes, The Professional hasn't played since he was 18, he says, but plays very well. Back in Germany it was just not that popular of an instrument which is why he said to me on a later date, "I thought something so exotic would get me all the big tits."

God bless that man. So, after a short session with The Professional, Female Boss comes in bright-eyed and smiling. A few seconds after The Professional gathers his things, discusses his itinerary with me and leaves:

"I don't think he knows what he's talking about," says Female Boss after the door closes.

Unbelievable.. I mean come on. What the hell is her problem!?

The practicing goes on for another week as The Professional inquires daily about her progress. As most of our wild endeavors it ceases shortly thereafter. No more practicing, no more mention of it.

The Professional comes in to work, like, 5 months later. Female Boss is facing her computer reading her email.

"So Female Boss, how is the mandolin?"

"The what!?" Female Boss blurts out. She tends to yell often especially when she hasn't the slightest idea of what is asked her.

"The mandolin, have you been practicing?"

"What are you talking about?"

You gotta be kidding me, I think to myself....

"Ohhh!" She says and laughs.

Followed up by nothing. The silence is very awkward and I can feel the heat on the back of my neck. I turn and look at The Professional that is staring at Female Boss' back waiting for an answer. He looks at me in awe. I smile and shake my head returning to the paperwork on my desk. About one more minute of absolute dead air fills the office.

"Well, bye." The Professional leaves. I'm baffled.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

Male Boss and "Yeah"

First time? Start here. Read "The Primer" then click "Angry Time" on the top panel and navigate other stories from the side. Chronological order makes more sense for the stories.

There's no other word that comes out of Male Boss' mouth that is equivalent to "I'm not listening to anything you are saying" than the word, "Yeah."

Everyone has the phrase or word that means just that or maybe you like to switch it up like I do. My words are, "Ok," "mmhmm," "Oh," and "Really./?" No one's the wiser.

Often I find myself having these cerebral exchanges with Male Boss that consist of a word or two coming out of our mouths as we have no clue what the other is saying. Its common cuz for the most part it really doesn't matter. Come time to for real deal business it gets handled by each of us cross checking our reports or what have you.

The other morning we had a rather riveting conversation regarding some changes on a report he wanted me to do. By the way, Male Boss is very vague, its not bcuz he is dumb, in fact he is very cunning. With such cunning comes the fact that he NEVER accepts blame for anything, ever, under any circumstance. He achieves this by making it someone else's fault, the more vague he is the easier it is to place blame on someone else for not following instructions, you follow? I learned this once and I will never have it burn me again.

Continuing back on track, since absolutes are his enemy I usually corner him in. He offers, "Yeah"'s about this particular client itinerary he wants changed. I keep asking him specifics and he stares at his computer hunting and pecking at his keyboard saying, "Yeah."

He has no clue what I am saying bcuz at this point I have said the exact opposite thing twice now and he still says, "Yeah." I no longer feel like testing the limits of reality at work so I close my interrogation with, "You got it, I will do it that way."

That seals the deal always, he hasn't been able to "get" me ever since I started saying that. Because he can agree to something that he has no clue but when I verify with a statement like that, the man is cooked. His pride also stops him from clarifying with me because he would be admitting fault that he wasn't listening to begin with. Its all office politics and semantics, the cornerstone of every successful business.

In a turn of events, Male Boss realizes he is stewing in his own juices and starts asking me questions. "Ok," I say several times, hardly listening. The phone rings, I'm off the hook before anything specific can be burped my way.

Male Boss begins examining the paperwork I "fixed." Something is amiss bcuz he starts muttering "what the fuck" to himself. Fret not friends, for I have nothing to worry about.

For the common man there is more than just one option on how to react when in Male Boss' shoes. Let's go over some problem solving basics: Logic would point to discussing with me what needs to be specifically done. Then again, maybe Male Boss can figure it out on his own using critical thinking. Or perhaps even just setting the task aside for some other time to let the brain cells regroup from hiatus. But no, this is not the path of Male Boss. This is his path:

Bathed in genius, Male Boss vents his anger toward Female Boss, who by the way, has just arrived into the office 2 hours into the work day. At top volume, of course, Male Boss attacks:

"You fucked this computer for the last time. Its all scrambled and the grib, gr-iib, gr.. what the fuck. The fucking GRID on Excel doesn't show the right contacts and phone numbers! Fix it, cuz I'm tired of you wasting my money on your foie gras dinners."

Yeah.. I have no clue either.

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

Cozy Winter Fires

First time? Start here. Read "The Primer" then click "Angry Time" on the top panel and navigate other stories from the side. Chronological order makes more sense for the stories.

This one is a daisy friends. It happened last winter and I just hope I can illustrate it well enough to put you in the position of feeling as annoyed and frustrated with the idiocy that is going on in here.

Day 1 around 1pm: Female Boss goes to the living room and sparks up a fire in their enormous fireplace. The thing is like 5x8 its pretty impressive. Now let's get things straight: a) the living room is on the other side of the investment property, b) no one is staying in that area of the house right now and c) its really not that cold. Somewhere in the jumble we call work, I can only deduce that some embers let fly and lit a curtain on fire. Female Boss comes running down the hallway screaming about it and I go to extinguish the fire. Anyway, wasn't that big of a deal smoke was pretty thick but I grabbed the proper equipment and all was well shortly.

Now, for the next few hours nothing else was said. I didn't leave work till approximately 7pm and Female Boss hadn't mentioned a thing. Day 1 ends.

Day 2 11:30am: For the past 2 hours Female Boss has been going bananas. She has made phone calls to Four Friends, Male Boss who has been sick at home, a Maid Service, her Best Friend and another person I will reveal later.

First Four Friends get the same rundown about how TERRIBLE the smoke is. I am talking the most blustery, windy speaking you can fathom as if you had just run a marathon. Doom and gloom in your pants and you can't catch your breath type of insanity. The best part of these conversations was the constantly repeated question, "How do you get smoke smell out?"

Every single one of them answered, "Febreeze." Every single one. Hilarious! Why?

"I can't stand the smell of Febreeze," protests Female Boss.

Then she goes on to say that she wants to call the Fire Dept to find out what takes the smoke smell out when everyone has already told her what does. My favorite part of the Four Friends conversations was the last one, this one lady that is pretty damn crass. When Female Boss hung up the phone I caught her muttering to herself (classic!), "She thinks I'm crazy too.."

The next phone call goes to sickly Male Boss. After the initial start up of what happened she wants to (revealing the last person she calls now) call her fucking Homeowner's Insurance company and make a claim! Male Boss causes her to revert to nothing but cussing him out and promptly hanging up on him. I guess he thinks she's crazy too.....

Call goes into Maid Service. "I need help to come today," Female Boss starts.

"Oh, no extra time for today on late notice? Shoot, well do you know what takes out a very strong smoke smell?" the conversation continues.

"Oh. Oh. Uh huh. Oh. I hate Febreeze," the conversation closes.

Female Boss phones Best Friend.

"Hello Best Friend?" Female Boss says in some sort of shoddy British accent.

Yes she speaks in that accent about 95% of the time with her Best Friend. I have no fucking clue why but its the most annoying shit ever. Its not good, its not accurate and its absolutely childish.

"Do you know how I can get rid of that smoke smell?" in her New Jerseyite accent this time. I guess cuz she's serious now and wants a solution.. no time for kiddy accents! Why is she continuing to ask? Well, come on.. up to this point she hasn't been given or heard any advice or solutions yet.. apparently.

With that shot down tone in her voice, Female Boss sighs and says, "Everyone keeps saying that, I hate Febreeze."

Female Boss persists, "Well I was hoping you knew how to get rid of the smell cuz you know everything."

Do I need to berate again or can you handle it on your own?

Now comes the insane call to the Homeowner's Insurance Rep. I will spare you the details and all the blustery windy speak of the seemingly sullied Female Boss. All in all the Rep made fun of her on several occasions bcuz Female Boss kept saying, "No I am serious, I don't know what to do." Followed by, "So I have no claim?"

This was said at least four times that I can remember. She then starts to boast about wanting to call the Fire Dept. "Well I need to know what to do. I am so clueless right now."

Sigh, too easy.

After a 15 minute jokefest the Rep forces her off the phone revealed by Female Boss saying, "Lunchtime? Oh that's right you guys are an hour ahead of us."

Female Boss puts her head in her hands and lets out another long winded sigh. Now mind you, you CANNOT smell ANYTHING unless you are IN the living room where no one is! Yeah, it smells like smoke but its seriously nothing that bad. I am sad to report that Female Boss never did call the Fire Dept, which I desperately wanted her to so they can tell her to use Febreeze, but this is an imperfect world and I digress. Shortly after her sigh, the hysteria snowballs and she becomes spaztic.

"I don't know what to do? These ppl offer me no help. What do I do? Maybe I will get some carpet cleaner or something. Should I? I think I should. I am completely exhausted. I don't know what the hell I should do. I didn't sleep as good as I thought cuz of that smell. Its like it was in my clothes! Don't you think? Northe?" Literally, she might have taken two breaths.

"Huh," I say to show her no one fucking cares. It worked cuz she didn't ask me again.

Now lets analyze this statement. This coming from someone that when I first got here in the morning was telling me about how fabulous her evening was and how she is so happy the weather is warming up again, on and on. Then something snapped and the day was reduced to this.

This concludes today's lesson: Smoke damage and its effect on the human brain.

Monday, August 08, 2005

Nothing Like a Monday

Female Boss gets an email from one of our loyal and giving clients that reads, "Check the mailbox before the mailman eats up the goodies inside."

Apparently they dropped off a gift for Female Boss. Male Boss walks in the office promptly at 10:35am in his standard work uniform, matted down hair, sweat pants and a flannel shirt that smells like bad breath and stale smoke.

"Get your ass up to the mailbox, there's a package for us," demands Female Boss to Male Boss.

"What?" responds Male Boss.

"There's a package in the mailbox for us," she repeats.

"Who gives a fuck?"

"Go get the damn mail, its food!"

"Leave me the fuck alone! I want to make breakfast, damn it. I didn't have it at my home."

"Crackers and butter isn't breakfast, go get the mail!"

"You get it."

"Please get it, I will forget if we don't get it now. The mailman is gonna take it and we'll never have received it!"

"God damn it, you are so lazy!"

"Me? Your stomach looks like a pig's!"

"Fuck you, Female Boss. Fucking sick of you. I'm gonna be a good man and do it. Just to shut you the fuck up and I can eat."

Male Boss heads out the door to the mailbox. From our office we have windows that look over the driveway toward the mailbox. As soon as he arrives Female Boss, who is watching him like a hawk, makes this statement, "Damn fuckin' right, food is there and he can't get there quick enuff."

Uh huh, you only had to bitch about it for 5 minutes before you wore him down to go there and basically shut you up so he could eat his crackers and butter in peace.

In the end, the package had a bottle of lotion in it. Everyone loses. I even double-checked the email later that day to confirm that Client used the phrase "before the mailman eats up the goodies" *shrug*

Friday, August 05, 2005

As Seen On TV

Now that I have some posts up here I am going to begin every post with this disclaimer as newcomers will probably make no sense of anything going on from day to day unless they start from the beginning.

First time? Start here.

On with the tale:

Let's take it back to Female Boss for a Friday post. This had to have been at the beginning of summer. My calf was killing me one day and Female Boss was thrilled to hear that I was in agony. Maybe not so much that I was in agony, but moreso that she would get a chance to whip out this little miracle she purchased from the internet and see it in action.

So Female Boss brings in this package and guts it like a fish. Apparently she was saving it for a special occasion.. and what came out might as well have been innards. She hands me a black plastic contraption that weighed about 8 oz. I take a look at it, turn it upside down to expose its soft supple underbelly and see about 5 dozen lights that take me back to my childhood and Lite Brite.

Enter Lightforce Technology.

The What: The magical, fantastical and practical means of all those out of date Lite Brites and Christmas tree lights we grew up with. Oh did I mention healing therapy? No? Oh well.
The When: Whenever you have insane pain just use this device and it cures all.
The Where: Anywhere you feel pain silly, they're lights for crying out loud. Lights!
The Why: Because nothing makes more logical sense than healing wounds, bruises, arthritis and cancer than with pulsing lights. Modern medicine is for the birds, you idiots.
The Who: Yours frikkin truly, that's who.

Now either you're furrowing your brow trying to comprehend the situation or you have seen the Infomercial on this and thinking to yourself, "I can't believe people bought that piece of shit." Maybe both. The point is, I am elected official guinea pig. The worst part is I probably saw that Infomercial a good three months prior to this episode and just couldn't believe it. Awestruck is probably the best word to use here.

Female Boss explains to me what she saw in the Infomercial and recaps all the horseshit stories, bad actors and bullshit therapists that plug the device. I mean you have a scenario (if you scroll down on that link and see the kid with it pointed at his knee) where this kid had knee surgery and the doctor used this mini, hand held Lite Brite to rehab him. Now is it just me or would you not bludgeon the doc bloody if he tried to make you pay for this kind of rehab on your kid?

Anyway, this piece of ingenuity comes with a velcro strap so I could just latch it around my leg and let the light do the work. The funniest shit is that there is a dial on this thing that has like 10 different settings from Low, Med, High and for those hernia days, Full Cycle. For credibility I am sure, all hi-tech devices have nobs so the user has that feeling of control. Well I was feeling pretty volcanic so Full Cycle was my only option, right?

While in my fit of rage, insulted by what Female Boss brought forth to numb the pain, I decided to plot and conspire. This being the typical result of any ruse perpetrated on my asshole self.

So I start saying, "Wow, this thing is amazing. Its really working. I can feel my muscle heating up."

Female Boss' eyes light up (pa-rumph), "Really? Wow, I knew it would. That Infomercial really had me hooked from the start."

"Oh yeah, in about an hour I should be good to run tonight."

"That's incredible. And you know what it only cost me $200," she says.

"Unbelievable," I say, feeling more like saying "Un-fuckin-real, lady."

Seriously, I couldn't feel a damn thing. Not warmth, not anything. I mean its mini light bulbs! What the hell would possess anyone to take the Infomercial seriously for one minute let alone to watch the entire thing, see the price and consider it a bargain, pick up the phone, deal with some dude in India with a fake Southern accent and give your credit card information over the phone to wait another six weeks for this thing to show up at your house? Female Boss is who. Fuck! Fuckin Fuck!

Now the story didn't end that day. The story ended about a month and a half later when Female Boss pulled her shoulder playing racquetball. She rushed home from the gym and strapped on the LFT 9000. The next day she was so irate that the product didn't work. She spouted for an hour about how she needed that pain to go away and it just wouldn't. I stuck to my guns though, couldn't stop reflecting on that incredible day that it soothed my calf muscle to feeling brand new. The more I talked it up the angrier she became. I'll probably bring the story up to her for old times' sake next time she pisses me off.

If you don't appreciate this story you really need to see the Infomercial, at minimum just read a bit on that link.

Thursday, August 04, 2005

Germany and You

This guy steps in the room and you just hear the theme music. Smooth as can be, he'll dust off a tuxedo and I just hear Killah Priest's "The Professional" when he walks in the room. He's the "Go-to Guy" when the chips are down, through and through the man is The Professional. He kinda reminds me of Harvey Keitel "The Wolf" in Pulp Fiction.

For the first few months here the guy was an enigma. He would simply come in, shake my hand and tell me, "Its a great pleasure to work with you today." He'd pick up the day's itinerary, ask me any necessary questions and take on the clients one by one. The end all be all is that he sounds just like Arnold. The man is a damn king, let's face it.

So, like a gentleman, I treated him exactly the same way he treated me. This paid off, as trust is always rewarded with inner-personality. Enter more workplace randomness.

The conversation went something along the lines of this:

"Good morning. Its a wonderful day and I look forward to working with you," starts The Professional.

"Fantastic," I say back to him shaking his hand.

I walk over toward the dining area to get some paperwork and The Professional starts laughing. I have never heard the man laugh before so I turn around and ask him what he's laughing at. He motions me in close.

"That dining room table always makes me laugh. It reminds me of when I was young and in Germany. My favorite Porno Tape of all time was Claudio's Castle and he would pump on a dining room table that looked just like that one. All the big tits, all the time."

He then rose his voice, no one else was at the office so it didn't matter. His voice boomed, "Claudio's Castle (insert like 10 crazy German words)." It was like his battle cry. Had he a pike in his hand surely he would have thrust it right through the marble flooring. Right after his demeanor turned, he grabbed the paperwork from my hand, shook it and walked out to handle the daily business.

Everything changed after that day. More tales to come about The Professional.

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

The One

The One is particularly attached to Female Boss. By attached I mean anchored with incorruptible fanaticism. When The One is two feet away from her, he yelps. When she is across the office or anything further from his sight he yelps and cries riotously. I have called up many friends to listen to this and they all have the same dumbfounded reaction. Its nuts.

So, a couple weeks back Female Boss goes out of town for the weekend with her brother who is in town. This is strange cuz she never ever leaves The One for an extended period of time and especially not at the investment property. Maybe she needed a break from his irrational neediness.. the best part is The One's super-intelligence shines through and absolutely knows something is up. He starts freaking out as if he can understand Female Boss' itinerary and that he is having no part in the weekend ahead.

So its the usual run of the mill dogs going crazy and The One is the ring leader. Demonseed chimes in with squawks and all of a sudden the office is a zoo. Good thing I have a sick sense of humor when it comes to pain and suffering, especially while at work, I was laughing so hard but I couldn't even hear my own laughter. Literally, that's how loud it gets in there with the dogs and the bird at a full fevered pitch.

That was Friday at about 2pm. Everything settles down for the rest of the pets but The One is whimpering non stop. Typical, no big deal. Happens all the time. Male Boss leaves him in the kitchen isolated as to keep his disturbing the other animals to a minimum. Male Boss apparently promised to stay at the investment property over the weekend taking care of all the animals as well. Whether or not he actually stayed all weekend I don't know but what I came into on Monday suggested otherwise.

Monday morning I get in about 30 minutes early cuz we are pretty busy here and I don't want to be swamped. I walk into the house.. the kitchen is right near the entrance. Male Boss is on his hands and knees cleaning up blood and shit from the kitchen floor.. that's right I said blood and shit. Wonder who made that mess..

"Fucking dog! I'm gonna kill you!" yells Male Boss.

I just walk by recognizing the fact that he's hating life and there is no need for me to enflame the situation.

Female Boss comes back that evening. With a huge grin I tell her the dogs were just fine while I was here. Friday comes and she is *again* leaving for the weekend with her brother. You guys don't understand, this is completely out of character for her. She never up and leaves, especially two weekends in a row. A total first for Female Boss.

Friday around 2pm Male Boss is not in the office. Female Boss is freaking out cuz The One knows she is leaving! Literally knows! He was going bananas all day while she was shuttling things into her car.. he is smart as hell I suppose. Anyway, she is now holding The One and he is wriggling, shaking and just writhing all around while crying. Its so funny but I try not to even crack a smile, I have to be serious.

Female Boss turns to me and says, "I'll give you $XXX.XX if you can please hold him and take care of him while you're still at work."

I wholeheartedly agree because, by the way, ALL the dogs love me. I go to grab him, the dog bears his teeth and growls. Female Boss lurches back astonished. I kinda laugh cuz The One is the size of my foot and, well, an all around joke of a threat. I tell Female Boss to put him down on the chair. Female Boss does and I pick up The One hassle free.

Female Boss then goes to the back of the house and grabs her carrying bag for him and hands it to me. I sling it over my shoulder and lower the sadass into the pouch.

"Yeah, I'm just really worried. Last weekend I think he gave himself colitis. Male Boss said there was blood and shit everywhere each morning."

I act shocked and concerned assuring her that in my care he is in the best of hands. She leaves for the weekend again. I'm slightly richer. Self-induced colitis!

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

Pigfoot the Usurper

Female Boss just bought some towels from Egypt. She paid through the nose for these little hand towels, no clue what makes them special, I guess that Egyptian cotton. Either way a hand towel should not enter triple digits. That's just stupid, no matter how much money you have.

On to the point, we not only use this property as our office but also our shipping house. I get things shipped here all the time as its just easier to make sure its delivered with no hassle. So Female Boss cracks open the new package and is absolutely thrilled. She lets me feel em, yeah they feel good but come on who are we kidding here, they're towels. So after gloating for a good half hour she leaves the new towels on the counter in the kitchen.

Enter Pigfoot. Kickass dog that he is, is as nimble as a cat and as demonic as one. Yeah, cats are crazy just like Pigfoot. I am at my desk writing up some paperwork and the sound of Pigfoot hopping onto and scaling over the doggy fence breaks the silence. You see, Female Boss sets up the fence to prevent them from escaping and doing damage. As you can tell this does a great job and the best part is she'll never learn from her mistakes as this isn't the first time something like this has happened. Let's get another thing straight before I move on.. Pigfoot isn't a damage dog, he's more of a needy, mischievous and curious dog. Its pretty impressive cuz, as I have noted before, he's extremely agile and can hop gates that are three times his height quite easily. Well, Pigfoot done did it this time.

Somehow, Pigfoot snatched down two of the towels on the frikkin kitchen counter. Again, he is not a damage dog, so he didn't tear them to shreds or anything. Instead, he decided it was a good day for diarrhea and took a mean one all over the towels. I saw this on my way to filling up my water.

The disappointing end to this story is that Female Boss came in with literally little to no reaction at the mess that was made. She picked up Pigfoot and just placed him back over the fence and threw the towels in the wash. She didn't even make a mention it to me, had I not seen it, I woulda never known what happened. Zero discipline, zero training. Pigfoot will strike again.

Monday, August 01, 2005

"Tell her puppy."

As promised, I have three dog stories about each individual dog to make the reader feel a little more connected with each animal. So here goes:

Female boss' friend came to town a while back and they use a detached guest house to usually house any company from outta town. She comes to visit pretty damn often, probably the third time since we inherited Puppy. So Lady comes into the house and is met with the usual deafening bombardment of dog barking. Did I mention not one of the dogs are trained? So per the usual the dogs are going straight bonkers at the site of someone they have seen plenty of times but this doesn't cease their urge to make their owner look like an idiot.

Lady says, "Jeez you would think they would recognize me by now."

Female Boss, "Have you said 'hi' to them? They are just excited."

"Uh huh," goes the last bastion of uninfected brain cells left in my head.

Lady walks up to the doggy fence separating them from the kitchen and leans over it to pet them. In usual doggy-greeting fashion Lady starts squealing, "Doggiiieeeeees, doggiiiieeeeeeeeeess!"

This quickly stops as all of a sudden the youngest and dumbest dog, Puppy clamps her jaws onto Lady's fingers. Puppy has a hell of a grip for and doesn't let go unless you smack her, which I had to do the first couple times she did it to me. Funny, she doesn't bite me anymore. Wonder if anyone is gonna figure that out..

"She's still a biter? Ow, I thought she would have outgrown that," says Lady.

"Heh you'd think that wouldn't you," farts my brain.

"No she doesn't bite anymore," says Female Boss lying through the polished veneers she calls her teeth.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow," responds Lady.

"Is she biting you?" asks the investigator of the obvious that is Female Boss.

"Ow, yes, ow, she's biting damn, ow, fuckin' hard, ow, ow. Get her to stop! OWW!"

"Tell her puppy," vomits Female Boss as the botox in her system mixes in with her gray matter. I think to myself - In what country would saying that stop a dog from biting anyone?

"Puppy, ow, ow, puuuppyyyyyy, puuuuppyyyy, (changing to anger) fuckin stop puppy! Ow!"

Female Boss corrects Lady and starts to sing, yes fucking sing, not fuck around singing either, real deal singing, "puuppyyyyy, puuppyyyyyyy, puuuuppyyyyyyyyyy."

"Ow, ow! Shit, stop!" yells Lady.

Puppy stays clamped for atleast 4-5 minutes injuring Lady's finger long enuff to have to apply ice to it for the rest of the afternoon she stuck around. Lady coulda been juicing it but I doubt it. I think its safe to say Puppy wins this round.