I have to confess, my brain is mush. I have been fighting with WordPress code all. damn. night and I still can’t figure out how to get a thumbnail in my sidebar that will automatically update and post to the most recent post on my photo blog.
Did I mention I’m starting a photo blog?
Point: this is a guest post.
My current supervisor and I have had several occasions where he feels like we are not “communicating” well.
It’s always when we have a face to face conversation and I finally understand why.
Here’s a typical conversation:
Boss: “How’s it going?”
Jester: “It’s going fine. I’m working on the design of this web application.”
Boss: “Great, let me take a look…”
He pulls a chair around to my side of the desk and moves in closer, taking the mouse from my hand to take control of my computer. He turns to look at me and when he speaks, there it is again… the bane of my existence. L’objet de mon hypnotiser. It pokes out at a slight angle, parting his barely visible lips that seek shelter in the wooly overgrown salt-and-peppered mustache and beard.
It’s a singularly grey tooth surrounded by several bright white neighbors.
Boss: “… is this?”
Jester: “Um. Oh. That’s the spot where I’m going to put the search form.”
I only know what he’s referring to because he’s once again peppering my computer monitor with greasy fingerprints. He makes a quick note on his ever-present notebook and continues narrating his perusal of the web site.
Boss: “So what I was thinking w..”
Oh man, there it is again. Poking its head out like a gopher in a field made of black grass. Did it just wiggle a bit? I could swear it waved at me. Maybe it was shaking from sobbing? Why so sad little guy? Do you feel inferior to your white neighbors? Why ARE your neighbors so white? Did you turn prematurely grey, or did they receive a bleach treatment that you were left out of? No wonder you’re so sad. You’re neglected and mistreated.
I’ll bet he drinks coffee all day long and never once brushes you or gives you a quick rinse with the good blue stuff. I’m guessing that because of the foul odor that now permeates my cubicle. Are you responsible for that smell, my little grey friend? Maybe that motion was you waving off the gas attack you are suffering. That could explain the smell. Little grey tooth farts.
Boss: “What do you think?”
Jester: “Err. I think I’ll need some time to figure out the best way to implement that.”
This is totally coming out of my ass. A drawing has made his way on to his notebook page in front of me that gives me a clue as to what he’s describing.
Boss: “How much time do you think?”
Jester: “Two weeks.”
Everything in a government web design job takes two weeks. You want me to change that font? Two weeks. You want to change the color on that background? Give me a couple of weeks.
Boss: “I guess that would be ok. While you’re working on that I need you t…”
Man, that was too easy. Two weeks? It will take me five seconds once he gets out of my way. I’d better make that change as soon as he goes, otherwise I’ll forget what it was.
Ugh, there’s the full smile again. Doesn’t he see you in there every morning, my little grey friend? I assume he looks in the mirror like a normal person. Well, maybe not. He does wear a jaunty beret over his ass-long ponytail every day. Perhaps he has a fear of mirrors and he doesn’t even know you’re in there, just waiting for a little attention. Maybe if you spoke up by reaching out and grabbing his lip when he’s talking… go on, you’re so close… just reach… right……. ugh, you missed again. You’re totally wasting every opportunity to let yourself be heard. Oh! I know… what if you developed a sudden sensitivity to cold drinks? Just a little twinge of pain would make him wake up and scrape the discolored crust from your skin? Is it a crust? What is that, anyway? Are you a victim of tetracycline? Surely not, or your neighbors would show signs of the poisoning… Are you wearing a silver filling on the back side that just shows through? What made you turn grey? Are you that much older than all your friends? Are they all your friends or do they shun you and not let you play their toothy games?
Boss: “Do you think you can do that?”
Jester: “Of course.”
JEEZ, won’t he just shut up and take his mouthful of wonders back to his big Ph.D. adorned office? Or maybe a dentist appointment? He’s been here what… 30 years? He should be making at least 180k every year, and I know he gets the same benefits I do, which include full dental. Does he have some moral or religious aversion to doctors and dentists?
Boss: “By the way, I’ll need you to document this meeting and every change you make to the application.”
I’ll get right on that. Oh wait, I gave my notice, so no I won’t.
I’ll miss my giant fingerprint-less computer monitor. I’ll miss the health benefits, but I think I’ll miss my little grey buddy most of all.