Hi there, guys and dolls! If you are in the U S of A, I’m sure your plans all now revolve around turkey, football games and avoiding awkward family questions. In other words, Thanksgiving. Well, yours truly, too.
So much so that I tried my dangest to get out of work today so Biff and I could make a start a day early (yes, am I nuts? I mean, that’s just one more day of dodging well meaning none of your business advice, but all the same, heck, it’s family), so while Peggy was over for a quick morning coffee, I got the idea to call in sick. And I was getting away with it! Darn it all anyway, I guess I didn’t have my hand over the receiver firmly enough, because when the big boss heard me giggle and actually say to Peggy that I was pulling the wool over the old goat’s eyes (oops) he told me to high tail it into the office pronto if I still wanted a job on Monday. I could hear his smugness all the way down the phone wires even after I hung up. Party pooper…
Anyhoo, I broke the news to Biff we wouldn’t be leaving til tomorrow morning after all and it would have been nice if he would sulked a little, not let out a whoop and hung up the phone (I could have sworn I heard a cocktail shaker and a baritone in the background, at all of 8 am on a Wednesday, but who am I to judge, I was just a tinge jealous, between you, me and the lamppost).
I get my sorry self to work on time, sit down at my desk with all the other mindless cogs and proceed to get myself through the day. I must admit that I really wasn’t a keen bean that day. Certainly I went through the motions, answered those questions and occasionally paid attention. Then I stretched my legs walking to the water cooler, stopping to flirt with the mail boy and snoop through the cart (interoffice memos marked private and confidential always contain the best news I find), share the details of a certain junior exec’s reprimand for fraternizing with a senior exec’s wife in a certain said party’s office) with a couple of gals in the dictation pool before catching the news that the grand poobah boss has left for the weekend. Soon as the news gets out, pandemonium. Covers go on typewriters, file and liquor cabinets get locked, one could overhear a few shrieks of delight, followed by the flurry of carbon copies and important letters being filed (er, being tossed away), followed by the grabbing of purses, hats and coats in a mad early afternoon dash to the elevators. Unanimous early quitting time for all.
Now to tear Biff away from his all day cocktail hour….
Thanks for reading and stay tuned for more posts. And don’t forget to give my Poppy Cove Mysteries a try if you haven’t already.
Toodles, Barbara Jean