Hi there, guys and dolls! Well, another Workday Wednesday is upon us, and let me tell you, I’ve had better. Or, let me tell you about it and I’ll feel better….
Anyhoo, I went in to work as per usual, just squeaking in at the last 9 am bell, expecting another day of doing, well, nothing (heck, it’s worked so far…). Then I got called into one of the corner offices. Now that’s never good. It quite often means I have to do something, or I got in trouble for something I did, when really, we all know nobody does anything around here. Half of us are still trying to figure out what the company actually produces, while the other half is pretending they know. Confusing? Yes. Lucrative? Also yes. This is why we stay. That, and for the afternoons the mail clerks turn the cart into a portable bar, but that’s for another day.
Right, back to today. So there I am, taking the long walk to the almost head honcho’s office. His secretary gives me an efficient once over while handing me a fresh steno pad, telling me she’ too busy and I’ll have to take a letter. “You know shorthand, don’t you?” she asks as she looks down her nose at me through her severe black cat-eye glasses. Frightened the bejesus out of me, so I numbly nodded and took the paper and pencil.
In I go and immediately the big guy prattles on about something, so fast, yet so boring I didn’t bother to retain it. I look bright-eyed and busy, scrawling something. As he chomps on his cigar, he gutters, “Got that? Good.” and waves me off.
Now I have no idea what it says. I just put down a whole bunch of swirls and goopy symbols really, really quickly. So now what? Fortunately I see Lorna, such a keener. Always wanting to make a good impression (that is, not yet reached her highest pay ladder rung, unlike the rest of us who are just dangling at the top, flailing in the pay scale of life), I pass it off to the youngster, telling her this has to go out pronto. She nods, then starts reading it, wide-eyed and blushing, asking me if I’m sure. “Of course!” I say and flounce off to lunch with Eric, the new payroll clerk.
By the time I make it back by three-ish, that corner office is cleared and his secretary is demoted to coffee girl. That’s one way I’ll never get asked to do dictation again.
Wonder what was in that letter, anyway?
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