Thursday, January 05, 2012

High on January

Ah, yes, January. The after-holiday time, the month when things start to calm down again, after all that parading around in costumes, consuming nap-enducing turkey, and eating candy out of our socks. The tree is down, the ornaments put away, and most of us are back to work again.

My special work news is that Disaster will not be with us for the foreseeable future. I'll dish the scoop from just before the holidays: Disaster decided to get a boob job, or breast enhancement, but didn't seem to think she really needed to take all that much time off--she came back in about a week. Oh, Disaster...of course, she was miserable, and on vicodin, she was downright drunk. She was practically worthless. One night, when I was settling ATM, I needed her to come out to put her part of the codes into the machine, since she was the only supervisor at work during that week between Christmas and New Year's Day. She stood out there, hugging herself, and told me, "My boospies hurt...", then "Dish yous hears what I did?" When I confirmed that I had, she seemed mystified. She'd told everyone, but was now unable to remember.

She managed to assemble quite the portfolio of bad behavior during these last couple of weeks, and today our manager called us together and announced that our immediate supervisor (that's Disaster) was on FMLA. Methinks human resources had a part in this decision. At least now she'll be able to nap in her own bed, instead of sleeping face down on the table in the tiny break room, or on the floor in the drive-thru, or hiding in the vault, sitting on the floor with a bag of peanuts. Despite the fact that being without an assistant manager is going to be difficult in many ways, everyone seems to be happy that Disaster is probably gone for good. After all, her attitude was bad enough pre-boob job to be fired.
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The funniest thing that happened at work lately was that one of our regular customers, an older lady, saw something with a shiny wrapper on the floor and picked it up for me to throw away. She said, "Looks like someone dropped their cold medication." The label on this little metallic package was very clear: TROJAN. Greek cold medication?

And I'm hearing squirrels on the roof. Aren't they supposed to be in bed by now, instead of playing silly games? Even if it is a mild winter so far, still.

That's all the chitchat I've got right now. What's up with you?

3 comments:

Doug said...

Oh, same old same old. I think it's sweet that Disaster wanted to share her breast augmentation widely.

TLP said...

The Trojan story is the best ever!!!!

Love it.

actonbell said...

Doug, folks were chagrined, far and wide.

Mom, I think it's the birth of a new joke. Every time I see some shiny wrapper, I will think of that.