Tuesday, May 02, 2006

Another Strange Day at Work with TheBoss

Sometimes my life is surreal. Take today, for instance. I was sitting in my office, dutifully entering data and talking to 3 or 4 friends on msn, when TheBoss strolled in.

TheBoss: I don’t wanna do work.
ThePeach: Me neither.
ThePeach’s Mind: Let’s go home early!
TheBoss: Let’s go for a nice, long walk in the park together.
ThePeach’s Mind: So you can molest me, kill me, and then hide my body behind a bush?
ThePeach: Yes, let’s.

So, we went for a little jaunt around the park as he talked to me about…um…actually, I think I stopped listening after he started telling me about his weekend cutting down trees on his property, so I really have no idea what he said to me. But I did mentally plan out my evening tv schedule (American Idol, House, Sex and the City).

After about 15 minutes of this, TheBoss turns to me:

TheBoss: Don’t you live just around here?
ThePeach’s Mind: NO! NO!
ThePeach: Why, yes I do.
TheBoss: I know!! Let’s go to your apartment and visit your kitten!!! *gleeful hopping*
ThePeach’s Mind: So you can molest me, kill me, and let the cat eat half my face before I am ever found?
ThePeach: sure, ok.

So, we crossed the street and started down the sidewalk. Then TheBoss started telling me about this exercise program that he started doing, and said that I should start doing it too because it would tone my ass and thighs. This is just one of the many times he has insinuated that I am a fat fuck. Let me recount some of the past times for you, which won’t be hard seeing as how they are burned into my memory with an intensity similar to that of a ‘Nam Veteran’s flashbacks: no matter what I do, no matter how many times I beat my wife with an empty whiskey bottle, I can’t get them out of my mind. Like the time he came into the lab while I was eating a cookie:

TheBoss: Uhoh, what are you eating???
ThePeach: A cookie.
TheBoss: *singsongy voice dripping with condemnation…and song* uhoh!! Watch out for your muffin top!!!

(For those who don’t know, Muffin Top is a term to describe the fat that hangs over low-rider jeans).

Or the time he came into the lab while I was eating fries (my friend brought me lunch – I swear I’m not a pig):

TheBoss: What are those?? Eh?? What are you eating??
ThePeach: Fries.
ThePeach’s Mind: You son of a bitch.
TheBoss: *picks up a pencil and pokes me in the love-handle area repeatedly* You’re going to get chichou!! CHICHOU!!!

(For those who don’t remember, chichou is a term I picked up in the Dominican Republic that means muffin-top, according to Billy Boy. I rue the day I ever told this to TheBoss).

And then yesterday, as I was drinking from a bottle of water:

TheBoss: Uhoh!!! What are you eating now???
ThePeach: Well boss, at the moment I am drinking from a bottle of water.
ThePeach’s Mind: EAT ME, YOU FUCKER!!
TheBoss: Oh, I heard swallowing and just assumed it was chocolate.

I would like to point out that I am actually a fairly trim, fit person. I am by no stretch of the imagination a stick-insect a la Terri Hatcher (her face scares me…so many veins…), but I am and always have been thin. Real-person thin. SO really, I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with TheBoss other than the severe psychoses that you’ve probably already picked up on. Yet he may or may not be driving me towards a body-image related complex. I found myself hiding the timbits that I bought today, fearing his reaction. And then after I ate them, I threw up and took a laxative.

KIDDING! ...Too far? too bad.

Anyway, where the shit was I?

Right, so we’re walking down the sidewalk towards my apartment (why??), and TheBoss decided to tell me about his new work-out regime (Why???), and then he hinted towards my apparent obesity (WHY??), THEN he decided to show me his workout routine as we walked (WHY??!!!). So, he put his hands on his head and, in a feat of flexibility, performed a series of lunges for 2 blocks.

TheBoss: *lunge*
ThePeach: Wow, that’s great.
TheBoss: *lunge* Try some with me!!!!
ThePeach: No.
TheBoss: *dejected face*…*lunge*.

Finally, we made it to my apartment. Let me tell you, there’s nothing in the world more awkward than having your boss in your home. But luckily, he didn’t kill me OR molest me. But he did, as usual, rape my soul.

TheBoss: So, this is where you live.
ThePeach: Yep.
ThePeach’s Mind: Touch me and die.
TheBoss: *looks around*…wow…I should really pay you more.
ThePeach’s Mind: But if you did, you’d take away the one joy I have in my life: living like a hobo.
ThePeach: Yep.
TheBoss: So, this is your cat. He’s really cute and OH MY GOD ARE THOSE GRANOLA BARS???!!!
ThePeach: Yes. President’s Choice Granola Bas. They’re my favourite. They’re expensive but I love them. ..I only have a few left…I bring them for lunch every day…
ThePeach’s Mind: Don’t you ask for one, bitch. Don’t you do it.
TheBoss: I’m starved!!! I love Granola Bars!
ThePeach’s Mind: Help yourself to my welfare delights; you do only make 100 grand a year.
ThePeach: …Would you like one? *the almost silent sound of a piece of my soul dying*
TheBoss: I’d like two!!

So, TheBoss ate 2 of my delicious granola bars and we walked back to work. On the way back…

TheBoss: It’s way too nice outside to work.
ThePeach’s Mind: please please please let me go home early.
TheBoss: I think I’ll leave early!!
ThePeach’s Mind: YYYESSSS!
TheBoss: You can leave early, too. Just as soon as you get the rest of that data entered.
ThePeach: …but…you just made me go for a walk with you for over an hour…I didn’t get much data entered yet.
TheBoss: You better work fast then! See you tomorrow!

Another day, another barely deserved but soul achingly earned dollar.

ThePeach

Ps – I totally ripped off Asian Cymbals’ last blog entry, where she gave her stomach a hilarious, hilarious voice. If you found this entry in any way hilarious, the credit is owed to her.

6 comments:

thepilot said...

I spent my day being yammered at by pissed off natives cuz I wouldn't let their bags get onto the plane, but at least my granola bars remained mine. Some things are just sacred, damnit!

Asian Cymbals said...

Dear The Peach,

Oh god, who takes two granola bars?! I've come to the conclusion that TheBoss is functionally retarded. I feel so sad for you.

As far as I'm concerned, personified internal organs are in the public domain. Thanks for mentioning me though, it's like having a celebrity give me a shout-out!

Whoop whoop!

The Diva said...

your boss is creepy

how is it he hasn't molested you yet? you're so pretty....(said in a sing songy 'the diva' voice)

anyhoo...hope work is looking up...keep a mean grasp onto that pepper spray

thepeach said...

Today he tried to get me to agree to go on a 'roadtrip' with him to another city (2 hours away) to help him pick up some office furniture. That's 4 hours in a car with TheBoss. I declined. I don't want to end up as molested remains on the side of the highway.

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