I Am NOT Ready For My Close Up, Mr. DeMille
Although the word "administrator" does not appear anywhere in my job title, my boss decided to take me to lunch yesterday in honor of National Secretaries Day.
Excuse me… National Administrative Professionals Day. Good Lord.
Earlier that morning one of the service engineers called me all the way from Hong Kong just to say "Happy Secretaries Day!" and then laughed uproariously into the phone. I responded, "Oh Paul, how nice of you to remember. I only wish you here to chase me around the desk!" That shut him up.
Actually I didn't mind it at all, because it is true that I handle a lot of the administrative duties required to keep an office running: ordering supplies, acting as receptionist (I'm the first to be seen when someone enters), screening my boss's phone calls, things like that. I even make the coffee, although I rarely drink it. I was surprised that such an observation had even occurred to my very nice but often clueless boss, and a free lunch in honor of such a silly day sounded just dandy to me.
The waitress at the restaurant had spanking red hair, consisting of a large round snarl on the top of her head, then running mercilessly straight on either side into two smaller snarls near her shoulders. Any stylist inflicting such an unfortunate hairdo upon another human being should be imprisoned. And then shot. And then buried with the same hairdo. Replete with round, button eyes, and a long, sharp nose, she looked less like a waitress and more like a prize poodle.
When my boss smilingly informed the waitress that he was buying my lunch to commemorate National Secretaries Day, she cackled, "Darlin', you're just about the ugliest secretary I have ever seen!" I know she meant it as a joke (albeit a bad one) but it still hurt my feelings. I convinced my boss to leave her a penny for a tip.
And I was glad she had such hideous hair.
Excuse me… National Administrative Professionals Day. Good Lord.
Earlier that morning one of the service engineers called me all the way from Hong Kong just to say "Happy Secretaries Day!" and then laughed uproariously into the phone. I responded, "Oh Paul, how nice of you to remember. I only wish you here to chase me around the desk!" That shut him up.
Actually I didn't mind it at all, because it is true that I handle a lot of the administrative duties required to keep an office running: ordering supplies, acting as receptionist (I'm the first to be seen when someone enters), screening my boss's phone calls, things like that. I even make the coffee, although I rarely drink it. I was surprised that such an observation had even occurred to my very nice but often clueless boss, and a free lunch in honor of such a silly day sounded just dandy to me.
The waitress at the restaurant had spanking red hair, consisting of a large round snarl on the top of her head, then running mercilessly straight on either side into two smaller snarls near her shoulders. Any stylist inflicting such an unfortunate hairdo upon another human being should be imprisoned. And then shot. And then buried with the same hairdo. Replete with round, button eyes, and a long, sharp nose, she looked less like a waitress and more like a prize poodle.
When my boss smilingly informed the waitress that he was buying my lunch to commemorate National Secretaries Day, she cackled, "Darlin', you're just about the ugliest secretary I have ever seen!" I know she meant it as a joke (albeit a bad one) but it still hurt my feelings. I convinced my boss to leave her a penny for a tip.
And I was glad she had such hideous hair.