Thursday, July 12, 2007

My Evil Midget Boss, Chapter the First

The only person to reply to my Balderdash challenge won! I believe it was the mysterious TK, now residing in CT. The answer was indeed the comix squiggles. Trip was a former coworker of mine, and former employee of the equally mysterious Prezzie during the big Dot.com boom days. Ah, those were heady days, when we had a pool table at our disposal and riches beyond man's most opulent dreams.

Tonight I promised to tell the story of the Evil Midget Boss. And so I shall, dear children. It may take a while, so settle yourselves in a cozy spot. This story has oft been told, but never written. Her name was The Queen* (name changed to protect privacy). She hired me, and for that I thank her, for I am still with the company. (She is not, for reasons to be revealed.) She was small, yes, but not an actual midget. She was so small that her head did not appear above the level of the cube farm; therefore, she could appear without warning and terrify the pants off anyone who happened to be, say, involved in a non-work exercise on the computer. To compensate, she wore red high heels. Our office is deeply carpeted, so there was no clicking noise of warning.

She seemed fairly normal at first. Pleasant, even. I was given editorial control of the feature well of a certain magazine which must not be named. She would review my choices for the features and seemed to like my work. I respected her; even liked her. The came our first trade convention, in San Diego.

When I went to make my travel plans, the Queen insisted that I share her hotel room. "Every penny counts!" she said, suggesting that the need for savings meant that we would get to share girl talk in the hotel room late o' night. I must be clear here that my boss was a married woman, not out for dalliance. She would often crow proudly about the fact that she had stolen her husband from his wife and was "the other woman." There was also some comment about her orgasmic abilities that my coworkers and I have completely blocked out to this day. (Anyone? I didn't think so.)

Before the convention, my new coworkers and I went out for drinks. I wondered if it was company policy to share one's hotel room with one's boss. They all spewed their drinks in unison. "Stay away from that crazy witch!" one screamed. I was worried.

To be continued.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Crazy witch here. Just for the record, I am not a little person; In fact, I'm over 5'.

I hope you're going to tell everything about that night truthfully.... like how we closed up the bar downstairs, how we trashed the room, and how I cried when you said "MINI bar" one too many times and I took drunken offense. (I now realize that was not a reference to my stature.)

Tell the truth, former colleague. I got BIG EYES for a little lady, so beware: I'm watchin' you.

Jenny Phresh said...

I will not fail to tell how you charged champagne and filet mignons to MY credit card.