Secretarial pool?
(From Suburban Misfits)
I didn’t exactly agree to hire them again.
It just happened.
Sure, I knew better.
I’d been their manager back in the old theater days in Paterson and knew how much trouble they could be.
But damn it, boss, you’re in Texas and don’t know how hard it is to get good help over here in New Jersey
And with Christmas coming on, I needed bodies to pack boxes, even if these two are poorest employees I could dig up.
It was hire them or a pack of hippies I didn’t know.
Okay, I should have suspected these two were out to get me after what I did to them at the theater, but I didn’t – even when they said I had to hire both or neither.
They came together in the same car, and seemed a waste of worker to have one sitting around waiting for the other, so I put them both on the payroll
I figured I could get rid of one or both of them the minute I saw a hint of trouble.
No, the last thing I figured was their finding out about her.
Maybe they knew me too well from the theater that there had to be someone like her in my life.
As manager of the theater had my choice of women, despite my being married, and took advantage of every opportunity. At the warehouse, I had only a choice of two, her and the other bitch who hated me.
It started as an affair, but after a while, I got it into my head that I loved her, and wanted to do more than just poke her during lunch. I figured I would marry her if I could talk my wife into a divorce.
These two thought they had me over a barrel when they found out I was screwing around with a secretary. That’s why production dropped.
I found them in the back lounging around like rich people, their in-tray full or orders waiting to be filled. They grinned at me and winked when I asked what they hell they thought they were doing.
Sure, I put my foot down. But it took me almost a week for me to convince them I wasn’t going to be intimidated by possible exposure.
I was having so much trouble trying to get my life not to love me that their talking to her would only help my cause, not hurt it.
Yes, I should have fired them.
But again, we were so backed up with orders I didn’t dare.
I also thought it would be easier for me to whip them into shape, the way I had in the theater before both of them quit.
They told me later that breaking the lock on the back door – so it couldn’t lock – was an accident, some bi product of their antics.
I’m not so sure.
But I know they didn’t go out and bribe one of the UPS drivers to come walking in the warehouse just as I was laying her down on the blanket I had spread out on the floor.
It was embarrassing for me; it was utterly humiliating for my secretary.
She wouldn’t do it with me again for weeks.
She said she felt cheap as if we were porno stars or something.
For that I wanted to kill those two, not just fire them.
But if it was an accident, how could I justify firing them or explain the circumstances to the unemployment office? I certainly didn’t want them collecting six months. They would see it as a vacation.
They certainly expected to get fired and were even giving each other high fives the next day when I came in.
They apparently had made plans for trips to Atlantic City and other places.
I got a lot of satisfaction seeing their hopes dashed, their faces taking on a shocked look I hadn’t seen registered there before.
What I did was work them harder than ever before.
They hated it.
I actually think they made plans to quit.
But now from what you tell me I can see they had other things in mind.
God knows when they had the opportunity to take those photographs. I certainly never saw the flash of the camera.
I know, I know, I was a bit busy humping my secretary. But I would have noticed the flash, even if I couldn’t hear the click for the sectary’s moaning.
And yes, I know how lucky I am that you got the photographs in the mail and not another supervisor.
If my secretary finds out there are pictures, it would crush her, and she would never marry me.
And yes, if your boss saw them, we’d both get fired.
Fine, I’ll fire the two idiots this afternoon. Then, I’ll drive out to pick you up at the airport.
My secretary? I’m sure she’ll be accommodating once I make it clear that my career is on the line.
Thank you, boss. It’s very kind of you. And Merry Christmas.