Think of it as an old western at high noon...
Good versus Evil.
Us vs. Them.
Scrub versus Management.
The scene: Friday at 4:30 PM.
A high-level director approaches at the opposite end of the hallway, extremely dapper in a light purple shirt and certainly expensive light purple tie atop the lower half of a gray suit. Now me, I am dressed quite inappropriately in skinny jeans and a T-shirt with a huge-ass skull (cause you know, skulls are cool!). I have been hiding all day in my end of the office where no management has seen me for hours. I almost made it. It’s heartbreaking, really. How close I came...
We now walk towards one another, him increasing at a clip, leaving me nowhere to turn. I try to hide my face with a standard sized envelope. It does not work. Damnit.
The scene: Friday at 4:30 PM.
A high-level director approaches at the opposite end of the hallway, extremely dapper in a light purple shirt and certainly expensive light purple tie atop the lower half of a gray suit. Now me, I am dressed quite inappropriately in skinny jeans and a T-shirt with a huge-ass skull (cause you know, skulls are cool!). I have been hiding all day in my end of the office where no management has seen me for hours. I almost made it. It’s heartbreaking, really. How close I came...
We now walk towards one another, him increasing at a clip, leaving me nowhere to turn. I try to hide my face with a standard sized envelope. It does not work. Damnit.
The question of what to do is unanswerable, at least in the next five seconds. I don’t want him to see me and tell my boss that I pal around the office with the other assistants looking like a ragamuffin when she’s not in. But I don’t want him to think I’m ignoring him, especially dressed as a ragamuffin (what message does that send? I think I'm better than him in some weird shaggy chic, homegrown mentality against the man?), as I need to stay good with people above me. The solution? Distract, deflect, project. Possibly with flattery. Okay, you can do this...
Him: “Good afternoon, K.”
Me: “Richard! You’re a vision in lilac!”
All the cubes within earshot, everyone jumping out to see who on earth just addressed said director in such a way: “Bah hah hah!”
Me, scurrying away: “Um. I’m late for…something.”
Why haven’t I been fired yet?
8 comments:
Pretty in a sorta kinda pink?
She lives in the place
In the side of our lives
Where nothing is
Ever put straight
She turns herself round
And she smiles and she says
'This is it'
'That's the end of the joke'
And loses herself
In her dreaming and sleep...
--Taupey
(did you mean loll around instead of pal around?)
ROFLMAO. I burst out laughing in the middle of a restaurant and almost fell out of my chair when I saw your comment on this guy's fashion statement. That was great.
They say that retreat is the better part of valor, so it was a wise and expeditious move at the end.
A vision in lilac. Possibly not a line found in most management trainee manuals.
Haha, that's hilarious. You probably destroyed his sense of masculinity. I'm sure that, after work, he ran right out to the nearest strip club to slug down shots of whiskey and beat up a Hells' Angel.
All, you know, in his lilac shirt and tie.
Because you're hilarious. Who would ever fire a little ragamuffin like you?
Very Ballsy. I like it K.
dressed like a girly version of jimbo jones, then?
thanks for cat commiserations.
I envy you your skinny jeans.
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