At Least I Had Good Hair

Monday started out okay. I showed up for work in a pretty good mood. I mean... I wasn't fluttering around shooting magic fairy dust out my ass or anything, but I felt... pleasant.

My morning walk was nice, the temperature was perfect and I felt like Snow White, whistling a tune as I watched the fat little bunnies frolicking amongst the buttercups, a ground hog munching happily on the grass and a pair of Blue Jays bumping feathers in a wild display of procreation.

Oh and most importantly... my hair looked FABULOUS.

When I got inside, I had a pile of orders waiting for me on my desk (KA-CHING!) and for the first time in forever, I wasn't behind.

Deep down.. I knew it couldn't last.

The unravelling began when Bossman innocently came looking for an order that shipped a few days ago. As I handed him the order, Lulu peeked over the wall to tell me there was a mandatory 401K meeting in the afternoon. I soon learned that this meant a return of Pseudo Proops, the corporate money guy who shows up to tell us how we just THINK we're losing money in the stock market, we're not really and that the answer to all our problems is to put more money in, because.. as he explains it.. we're really making money, we're just too simple minded to understand it.

I'm sorry.. I may be stupid but when my quarterly statement's balance is $3000 less than it was last quarter... that's losing money.

I told Lulu, "I don't care if the meeting is mandatory, if he starts talking about letting a 500 pound anaconda swallow me again, I'm walking out."

"No you won't," she answered.

"No, I won't, but it felt good to pretend I had a pair for a second," I admitted.

In the two hours we had before the meeting, the reason for Bossman needing a copy of the order he'd been looking for began to come to light. When our customer's customer received their shipment, their "item" (with shipping, an $8000 item) was built completely wrong. We pulled all the paperwork and discovered that my quote, our customer's order and the way the "item" was built all matched.

But it wasn't what our customer's customer ordered.

Remember LaShamwow, the pissy assed little twit angry customer who called me with her butt floss in a wad because she'd LIED to her customer about when the "item" would ship, then wanted me to perform a mother effin' miracle and make her look good?

Yeah.. her.

She called this afternoon to inform Bossman that we would be eating the cost of repairing the "item" and that we were completely at fault. Bossman gently explained to her that she was mistaken. It all went downhill from there.

I reckon she didn't realize I was sitting in Bossman's office listening to the whole conversation when she had a momentary leave of her senses and decided to try to rescue herself by resorting to calling me.. a liar.

Oh yes.. yes she did.

Bossman, who had all the paperwork in front of him, proving that I did nothing wrong, reared back in his chair, his eyes beginning to bulge in the sockets, his bald little head glowing bright red.

He screamed in to the phone. He told LaShanaynay what he thought of her. I'm pretty sure he insulted her family back six generations and questioned the mental capacity of any unborn children she may have been planning to conceive in the future.

It was not pretty.

I have seen Bossman lose his cool on many occasions, but I've never seen him go radioactive ballistic like he did today. I seriously thought he was going to have another heart attack.

By the time I left there this afternoon, I wanted to quit my job, change my name and move to another country, spending the rest of my days as a Botswanian bag lady, wandering the streets with my crusty, old hairless dog, muttering to myself and beating up squirrels to steal their peanuts.

Then? I had the pleasure of grocery shopping.

I'm seriously reconsidering my decisions to give up smoking, drinking and one night stands with men of questionable moral standards.

Jeeze.

And honestly? I don't even know what the hell was said in the meeting. By then, my brain was fried. It's been over five hours since LaShayShay or whatever the hell her name was caused Bossman to go nuclear and I've just now recovered enough to form a complete sentence.

At least Monday is over. Onward ho.

Ya'll have a good one. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!