The Hellhole

Sunday, July 24, 2011

My telephone rings. It is The Boss.

The Boss: Hi! How is your morning going? So, about these pro-formas--
[I hear unusual background noise]
Me: Where are you???
The Boss: Buckhead.
Me: Well, okay, but I mean where? - like the St. Regis, the Ritz, the--
The Boss: Oh, at The W. We've just had breakfast. We're going for a swim later. So anyway--
Me: Fuck you.
The Boss: heh-heh. So anyway, about that pro-forma--
Me: No, fuck you. Really, FUCK YOU.
Mrs. Boss, suddenly re-entering the room: Who are you talking to?!?
The Boss: Helly.
Mrs. Boss: You called her at home?!? This early?!? On a SUNDAY?!?
The Boss: It's fine. She's fine. You see, it is important, early on, to foster an environment of synergy and cross-communication, such that dialoguing is welcomed, and the channels of approachability run simultaneously, so --
Mrs. Boss: She said 'fuck you', didn't she?


  • I like Mrs. Boss.

    By Blogger basil, at 5:06 PM  

  • I hope Mrs. Boss took a rolled-up newspaper and swatted The Boss across the nose with it many times.

    By Blogger Topcat, at 10:58 AM  

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