A Lesson In Karma

Okay, ya'll know one of my favorite phrases is "What comes around goes around" and sometimes I tend to say it so much that it starts to lose it's meaning. However, it never fails that just when my faith begins to wane, the Universe finds a way to reassure me that there is justice in this world.

We had visitors scheduled to visit the Cubicle Asylum back about a month ago and every one was in a tizzy, flitting around and tidying up. The bathroom which serves the office needed some attention, particularly since we knew that our visitor was female and there are at least six of us who share one bathroom.. or rather.. one toilet. It doesn't take long for it to get a little.. well.. skanky. We do have someone who's job description includes the beautification of the ladies potty palace, but his interpretation of "cleaning" is to wipe out the sink, swish the throne and empty the trash. Anything that falls outside of those duties is ignored. What I mean is, if you were to say, spill some of that toxic pink liquid soap on the tile floor, it would stay there, because it didn't land in the sink, on the throne or in the trash can. (Okay, if you spill it, you should clean it, I'm just using this as an example. Don't be so picky.. sheesh)

So the day before the scheduled arrival of our visitors, Louise stopped me and said, "Did Bossman tell you about the bathroom?"

"No?" My mind reeled, was it backed up? Was sewage going to start flowing into the hall? Did they forget to pay the water bill?

"Oh, he was sayin' that since Jose' doesn't do a very good job cleaning them, he was going to get you and Bubbles to do it. We have to make a good impression ya know."

Now, Louise knows that Bossman and I don't have the best of employee/supervisor relationships. I mean, if he told me I had to clean the bathroom, I'd do it, but I wouldn't be happy about it. Jose' makes more per hour than I do, if he's not doing his job to their satisfaction, then management needs to .. well.. manage.

Louise went on, "He said to make sure you got down in the corners, it's pretty nasty. Oh and it was suggested that you run down to the dollar store and get some rubber gloves, there's some kind of crud forming up under the rim."

She had me silently fuming and contemplating ways in which I could end Bossman's life without ending up in jail.

Fortunately for Bossman, Louise wasn't able to keep a straight face for long. I felt foolish for allowing her to get me so riled up, but I was thankful when I realized she was lying.

Our visitors ended up rescheduling their trip that day, due to a flight cancellation. Fast forward to this week. The visit was rescheduled for this Thursday and once again, we were all running around like the proverbial headless chicken. We arrived to work early, Lulu and I passing Jose' going in the opposite direction as we headed up the hill. Neither of us thought much of it, it's not unusual for him to run to town for supplies and with the impending company, it seemed logical that he'd be doing just that.

When we got inside, we found the GM stomping up and down the hall, about to blow his stack. Apparently Jose' had told one of the guys out on the floor that he was sick and left. The person he told was not a supervisor, so the GM was more than a little angry. I stayed out of his way, sitting in my corner, minding my own business. He walked across the hall and threw open the door to Thelma and Louise's office.

"Louise, Jose' left, would you please go in there and clean that bathroom before those people get here? I hate to ask you but I really need for you to do this for me," and with that, he turned and walked off. You could feel the tension floating across the hall. I know she thought I put him up to it.

When I spotted Louise coming out of her office, head hung low, steam coming out of her ears, I hunkered down behind my new ginormous flat screen monitor and hid. A couple of minutes later she re-emerged, rubber gloves up to her elbows, brandishing a well worn toilet brush, "Thelma, run down to the store and git me some Greased Lightning or something, this generic bowl cleaner crap isn't going to do it... and come here and get this... splatter... off my glasses. I can't see a gawd bless-ed thing!"

I nearly had to stick my head in my desk drawer to stifle my giggles. I didn't want her going upside my head with that toilet brush.

She's not spoken to me since.

~*~

The words have flowed like molten lava for me this morning, so if ya'll missed my earlier post either scroll down or go here: "U.S.Immigration, Oconoluftee Style"

Now I'm going to move some furniture, rearrange some crap and evict the rapidly multiplying dust bunnies. Ya'll have a peachy freakin' keen weekend.