Bosses are Awkward
Bosses are awkward creatures with the gift of showing up just when their employees are doing something weirder than usual. For example, recently my office held a farewell party for my boss who has moved onward and upward. I thought it would be a nice touch to project an image on the big screen as a background during the party. Something along the lines of, “Goodbye, We’ll Miss You.” I wasn’t worried that the projector was already on while I was searching, since she wasn’t there yet. So I pulled up Google images and typed in the word “Goodbye.” Right on cue, she walked in just as google put up “Goodbye and Good Riddance” as its number one choice. Oh well, after eight years of awkward encounters she wasn’t surprised.
That one wasn’t as bad as another boss who stepped over just as I had pulled up a very sketchy website called, “Plaster of Paradise.” I was scrolling through with wide-eyed fascination. Naturally Linda, picked that moment to walk through my area.
“You want to tell me about this?” she asked.
Me, still fascinated, and not thinking at all about how this might look to her.
“Did you know some people have a thing for casts?”
“No, but hold on… What’s wrong with that guy? She asked, pointing to a fully clothed man with two leg casts and a neck brace.
“It doesn’t say. Why? Do you want his number?”
She rolled her eyes (she did that a lot). Dare I ask?
“What? Oh! Sorry! I’m trying to find a cheaper option of plaster of paris for next week’s craft.”
Luckily, she’d worked with me long enough to believe the truth of that statement.
Linda put up with a lot from me. Since I was the children’s librarian, it was my job to do strange–I mean creative–things. But think the one that traumatized her the most, wasn’t my fault. For some reason, I’d brought my five year old daughter, Catherine, with me to work. Just minutes before we had to leave, she decided to make a mold of her face with green silly putty. I gave her a quick scrub, but she still had tendrils of green all around her hairline, and her face had a greenish plastic look. When I brought her in, work came to a crashing stop as my motherly co-workers tried every miracle skin cleanser they could think of. By the time my boss walked in, all traces of silly putty were gone, and Catherine no longer looked plastic, But worse, my normally pretty little girl, looked like a skin tone of ‘over-ripe corpse’ was natural to her. “Hi everyone!” Linda said. “Is Anneli’s dau—” her eyes widened as she saw Catherine.
I jumped in as though everything were normal, “Hi Linda! Yes, this is Catherine.”
Linda recovered her poise, “Hi Sweetheart. Nice to meet you.” she said.
“Hi,” said Catherine, scratching her face.
“Uhhhh, I’ll see you all later,” she said as she bolted back into her office.
Later I could tell she was dying to ask me what terrible disease Catherine had and more importantly, whether it was contagious, but she was too gracious to pry. I couldn’t think of a graceful way to bring it up, so I let her assume I was struggling bravely on in the face of calamity.
But that was a long time ago, and now I have a new boss. When I met her, I brilliantly said, “Hello!” Then my mind went completely blank, so I just continued awkwardly into the kitchen. So much for dazzling her with my witty conversation. But I have no doubt I’ll have many more chances to make an impression.
That one wasn’t as bad as another boss who stepped over just as I had pulled up a very sketchy website called, “Plaster of Paradise.” I was scrolling through with wide-eyed fascination. Naturally Linda, picked that moment to walk through my area.
“You want to tell me about this?” she asked.
Me, still fascinated, and not thinking at all about how this might look to her.
“Did you know some people have a thing for casts?”
“No, but hold on… What’s wrong with that guy? She asked, pointing to a fully clothed man with two leg casts and a neck brace.
“It doesn’t say. Why? Do you want his number?”
She rolled her eyes (she did that a lot). Dare I ask?
“What? Oh! Sorry! I’m trying to find a cheaper option of plaster of paris for next week’s craft.”
Luckily, she’d worked with me long enough to believe the truth of that statement.
Linda put up with a lot from me. Since I was the children’s librarian, it was my job to do strange–I mean creative–things. But think the one that traumatized her the most, wasn’t my fault. For some reason, I’d brought my five year old daughter, Catherine, with me to work. Just minutes before we had to leave, she decided to make a mold of her face with green silly putty. I gave her a quick scrub, but she still had tendrils of green all around her hairline, and her face had a greenish plastic look. When I brought her in, work came to a crashing stop as my motherly co-workers tried every miracle skin cleanser they could think of. By the time my boss walked in, all traces of silly putty were gone, and Catherine no longer looked plastic, But worse, my normally pretty little girl, looked like a skin tone of ‘over-ripe corpse’ was natural to her. “Hi everyone!” Linda said. “Is Anneli’s dau—” her eyes widened as she saw Catherine.
I jumped in as though everything were normal, “Hi Linda! Yes, this is Catherine.”
Linda recovered her poise, “Hi Sweetheart. Nice to meet you.” she said.
“Hi,” said Catherine, scratching her face.
“Uhhhh, I’ll see you all later,” she said as she bolted back into her office.
Later I could tell she was dying to ask me what terrible disease Catherine had and more importantly, whether it was contagious, but she was too gracious to pry. I couldn’t think of a graceful way to bring it up, so I let her assume I was struggling bravely on in the face of calamity.
But that was a long time ago, and now I have a new boss. When I met her, I brilliantly said, “Hello!” Then my mind went completely blank, so I just continued awkwardly into the kitchen. So much for dazzling her with my witty conversation. But I have no doubt I’ll have many more chances to make an impression.
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