Friday, February 29, 2008


There is a lady at work whom I refer to as "The Stump". She is short, dark and dumpy, with frizzy brown hair, bags under her eyes and stained, unmanicured fingernails. Her clothes are torn and dirty. She eats cereal and smelly feta cheese burritos at her desk.

Her personality-- well, I contend she is missing a compassion chip. Sometimes she says things that astonish me with their complete lack of empathy or insight. She can be cruel and dismissive. Unfortunately, she is intelligent.

The very worst thing about The Stump is that she is participating in an old, old scenario to get what she wants: she's fucking The Boss.

What does she want? I dunno- I guess she wants things her way. The Stump used to be in my position as Administrative Assistant, but she was "promoted". To what? No one knows her title. Is she a horticulturist? A gardener? A foreman? Queen of the parks department? We remain ignorant. Her position, whatever it is, was created by her with The Boss's blessing. She now has a desk in his office, an extension of her own, a computer, lots of papers piled on her desk, and a truckload of privilege bestowed on her by her boyfriend.

The Stump schtupping The Boss certainly gets her lots of things the rest of the staff does not have. She isn't on-call for emergencies in The Hamlet, meaning when a snowstorm hits in the middle of the night, The Stump stays warm and snug in bed, while the unfortunates on our staff have an hour to get to the shop, warm up the snowplow, and start an 12-hour snow removal shift. The Stump receives compensatory time, although she doesn't work the requisite overtime hours one must work to receive comp time. The Stump does personal errands during work hours, in Hamlet vehicles. The Stump uses Hamlet supplies, such as fertilizer, mulch, etc., for her on-the-side landscaping business.

Being The Boss's girlfriend also gets her toys. She has a GPS system for map-making, which she has never used. She asked The Boss for a greenhouse to be built on our facility property, and it stands empty and unused, without happy little pots of baby plants and seedlings; instead it is filled with dirt, dead plants and nests of Black Widows.

Most alarming, The Stump has The Boss's ear. He looks to her for advice and support when situations in The Hamlet go awry. She is, of course, filled with opinions and ideas which she imparts to The Boss with certainty and authority. More often than not, he follows her advice.

Dad used to say about people like The Stump: "She must be great in the sack." This used to horrify me when he'd say such a thing, but now that I'm older and have gained a bit of life experience, I think he must be right, in his coarse little way. Now Dad's comment fills me with horror in another way-- imagining The Stump and The Boss together... well, I'd like to have that part of my brain zapped with a powerful laserbeam so I can't visualize it again.


The Scarlet Pervygirl said...

I think you've hit on a surgical procedure that should be government-funded and available to everyone regardless of age, creed, or race.

Even the most anti-socialism Republicans should be able to get on board with this campaign. Just have them picture Dick Cheney screwing; we'll have walk-in clinics dotting the nation within a month.

The most important issue at this point, I think, is what to call this procedure. I'm in favor of "Obliquity Oblation," using the Jacobean sense of "oblique" as "disgusting and perverted."

the Redhead said...

Yuck, just yuck. Boning the boss: so predictable, so distasteful. No wonder you have to be cautious at work. Too bad there's no one above the boss. (Just someone BELOW the boss, ick ick ick.)

Gina said...

Who needs Jo Malone when a cheap and cheerful feta burrito can double as the all essential seduction tool. Smelly dried cereal milk on the computer keys...mmmm no wonder she nabbed the boss. I'm betting he's no George Cloony.