Saturday, December 3, 2016

My Assistant

Long time readers know of my unfortunate past history of making people cry over the telephone. As I have matured over the years I have shown great improvement in this area. It's actually been years since some home office service flunky has provoked me into a sharp-tongued, sarcasm filled rage, I'm proud to say. With age has come some measure of restraint. Not so with my highly skilled, no nonsense administrative assistant, whose name I will withhold, (but her initials are Kristin Reihl).

Yesterday it was time to place my yearly order with Harry and David. I send out thank you gifts to my best and most loyal clients, and also a few family members. I turned over this always frustrating job to Kristin because that's essentially what I do...anything unpleasant winds up on her desk. Why she continues to stay in my employ is a mystery. Anyway, I walked into her office while she was thirty minutes in to this task and she had already dispatched two female incompetents, and was now mixing it up with a male manager. He was getting both barrels:

Kristin: You're not giving me an answer, I need an answer! Why, if It says free freaking shipping are you charging me $10.34 for shipping? What about my problem do you not understand??

I slowly backed out of her office supremely grateful that I don't work at Harry and David. Thirty minutes later I cautiously returned when I saw that she was no longer on the phone. Her back was to me but she somehow sensed that I had entered:

Kristin: Do not say anything to me right now or I will say something mean to you!

Once again, I backed away. Kristin is a redhead. You know what they say about redheads. . .when they warn you that they might be mean to you, they're not messing around. I scampered back to my office. Ultimately, the order was placed sans the offending shipping charges. No doubt, several service employees with barely understandable accents were in tears at Harry and David headquarters. Kristin had still not calmed down completely..."It was like talking to complete idiots!!"

So, a few minutes after she left, I also headed to the parking lot to leave. She always parks right beside my car. This is what I found:

Yep. This is her briefcase containing her laptop computer and other valuables sitting innocently on the pavement. I took a picture and texted it to her with this carefully worded comment: " Hey sunshine, forget something?" Luckily, she hadn't driven all the way home but had stopped at Trader 
Joe's. Of course, all was well. . . But now I had a very valuable photograph and an embarrassing story to tell at her expense. I then told her a bald face lie: " I promise not to put this picture on Facebook and I probably won't write a blog about it."