professionalism #11
it was raining and cold that morning. back to work. guaranteed fear and loathing. abandon all hope. prepare for the weirdness. get familiar with cannibalism. our chief of security here at the office had his uniform winter jacket buttoned to the top and had pulled it over the crown of his head, covering his ears. his arms hung languidly, slightly elevated and completely ridiculously. i remember him saying something like “greetings,” and then punching me full-force square in the chest. i’d long suspected him to be mentally challenged and the punch proved it true in all its ugly glory: Retard Strength, like an adolescent male chimpanzee in the wild and lustful throes of mating season. i reeled around, dropped my shoulder satchel and clutched the concrete entryway. my eyes burned. i couldn’t breathe. my heart was thrown into some kind of violent and unnatural defibrillation. “call an ambulance, you brute,” i gasped, “i think i’m going under!”
all that fat fucker did was chuckle. “Man…you are a funny one, Mr. St. Clair. The Doktor said to say ‘Hello.’ You have a good day now, Mr. St. Clair.”
“you can go fuck yourself…i’ve asked you time and time again to punch him once, JUST ONCE. and you won’t. what kind of evil spell does he hold over you? hmmmm? does he pay you? well? probably in crackrocks. or sexual favors. you swine, THE DOKTOR HAS SYPHILLIS!”
he chuckled even harder, louder. “You boys sure are funny.”
i envisioned this pigfucker eviscerated, side-by-side with that fuckin’ Doktor, both of them hung from a pole so the crows could eat their entrails. it hurt when i breathed.
the Bossman was waiting at my desk with an alligator’s smile, tapping his watch. “hey Jack…what’s happenin’…sorry about the time, it won’t happen again and all that jazz…you know, i was accosted by a wild animal on the way in the building today. vicious fuckin’ brute. you should call the police, or at least fire the security guard. this is not the place for…”
“LISTEN ST. CLAIR, YOU CAN SAVE YOUR EXCUSES FOR SOME OTHER TIME!!! THAT’S NOT WHAT I’M HERE FOR!!! I NEVER CARED FOR YOU AND YOUR GREASY WAYS, YOUR...”
“hey, your fly’s down.”
“WHAT THE…NO IT’S NOT!!!”
i laughed.
“LOOK YOU LITTLE SON-OF-A-BITCH…I CAME HERE TO TELL YOU…I…SOMEONE AT THE HOME OFFICE NOTICED YOUR REPORTS AND…”
“hey man, don’t try to pin that on me. i didn’t even do those reports. i handed them off to an intern that was here for…”
“WILL YOU SHUT THE HELL UP FOR ONE SINGLE, SOLITARY GODDAMM MINUTE? I’M TRYING TO GIVE YOU A COMPLIMENT.”
“alright then.”
“ALRIGHT WHAT?”
“alright i’m shutting up. all you had to do was tell me.”
“I DID, YOU GODDAMM LOONEY BASTARD.”
“see.”
“SEE WHAT?”
“see…i’m following directions. i’m shutting up. now lay those compliments on me, my man.”
“YOU KNOW WHAT, IF IT WAS UP TO ME, I’D…”
“you’ve got some food stuck in your teeth, you know that?. take care of that. i can’t concentrate on what you’re saying with that mess in your mouth, and frankly, i find it quite difficult to even look at you in such a condition. for fuck’s sake, this is a business here. let’s maintain a semblance of professionalism. do you need a mirror?”
“THEY WANT YOU TO WRITE THE PRODUCT SPECS FOR THE NEW CATALOG. HERE’S THEIR LETTER,” he said and tossed a yellow envelope on my desk.
i asked what it was he had for breakfast, but he must not have heard me.
a short while later, the Doktor appeared at my door with that steaming pile of humanity known as the Chief of Security. Arm-in-arm, the bastards, giggling like little school girls. the fat bastard waddled on his way after the Doktor unfurled and snapped a $20 bill, placing it in Security’s pocket.
i threw a paper weight at the Doktor, narrowly missing his his and knocking over a plant on some dumb cunt’s desk. “that’s the last of your little pranks. i could have been killed. THIS MAN IS A PEDERAST,” i yelled.
“relax…i got here early and everything this afternoon just to arrange that.”
“what’s that you say…i can’t hear you so good…everything’s going black…i’m comin’ Weezy, i’m comin’!”
“Elizabeth.”
“what?”
“Elizabeth. i’m comin’ Elizabeth. come on man, if you’re gonna do Fred Sanford, at least do him right.”
“who the fuck is Weezy then?”
“the Jeffersons.”
“oh yeah…the Jeffersons. hey look at this. i’ve been asked to write something for the company. seems my literary skills are finally paying off, bitch. it says i should devote my full attention to completion of the project. i got a deadline and everything. seems as if i arrived, don’t it?”
“i thought i smelled something.”
all that fat fucker did was chuckle. “Man…you are a funny one, Mr. St. Clair. The Doktor said to say ‘Hello.’ You have a good day now, Mr. St. Clair.”
“you can go fuck yourself…i’ve asked you time and time again to punch him once, JUST ONCE. and you won’t. what kind of evil spell does he hold over you? hmmmm? does he pay you? well? probably in crackrocks. or sexual favors. you swine, THE DOKTOR HAS SYPHILLIS!”
he chuckled even harder, louder. “You boys sure are funny.”
i envisioned this pigfucker eviscerated, side-by-side with that fuckin’ Doktor, both of them hung from a pole so the crows could eat their entrails. it hurt when i breathed.
the Bossman was waiting at my desk with an alligator’s smile, tapping his watch. “hey Jack…what’s happenin’…sorry about the time, it won’t happen again and all that jazz…you know, i was accosted by a wild animal on the way in the building today. vicious fuckin’ brute. you should call the police, or at least fire the security guard. this is not the place for…”
“LISTEN ST. CLAIR, YOU CAN SAVE YOUR EXCUSES FOR SOME OTHER TIME!!! THAT’S NOT WHAT I’M HERE FOR!!! I NEVER CARED FOR YOU AND YOUR GREASY WAYS, YOUR...”
“hey, your fly’s down.”
“WHAT THE…NO IT’S NOT!!!”
i laughed.
“LOOK YOU LITTLE SON-OF-A-BITCH…I CAME HERE TO TELL YOU…I…SOMEONE AT THE HOME OFFICE NOTICED YOUR REPORTS AND…”
“hey man, don’t try to pin that on me. i didn’t even do those reports. i handed them off to an intern that was here for…”
“WILL YOU SHUT THE HELL UP FOR ONE SINGLE, SOLITARY GODDAMM MINUTE? I’M TRYING TO GIVE YOU A COMPLIMENT.”
“alright then.”
“ALRIGHT WHAT?”
“alright i’m shutting up. all you had to do was tell me.”
“I DID, YOU GODDAMM LOONEY BASTARD.”
“see.”
“SEE WHAT?”
“see…i’m following directions. i’m shutting up. now lay those compliments on me, my man.”
“YOU KNOW WHAT, IF IT WAS UP TO ME, I’D…”
“you’ve got some food stuck in your teeth, you know that?. take care of that. i can’t concentrate on what you’re saying with that mess in your mouth, and frankly, i find it quite difficult to even look at you in such a condition. for fuck’s sake, this is a business here. let’s maintain a semblance of professionalism. do you need a mirror?”
“THEY WANT YOU TO WRITE THE PRODUCT SPECS FOR THE NEW CATALOG. HERE’S THEIR LETTER,” he said and tossed a yellow envelope on my desk.
i asked what it was he had for breakfast, but he must not have heard me.
a short while later, the Doktor appeared at my door with that steaming pile of humanity known as the Chief of Security. Arm-in-arm, the bastards, giggling like little school girls. the fat bastard waddled on his way after the Doktor unfurled and snapped a $20 bill, placing it in Security’s pocket.
i threw a paper weight at the Doktor, narrowly missing his his and knocking over a plant on some dumb cunt’s desk. “that’s the last of your little pranks. i could have been killed. THIS MAN IS A PEDERAST,” i yelled.
“relax…i got here early and everything this afternoon just to arrange that.”
“what’s that you say…i can’t hear you so good…everything’s going black…i’m comin’ Weezy, i’m comin’!”
“Elizabeth.”
“what?”
“Elizabeth. i’m comin’ Elizabeth. come on man, if you’re gonna do Fred Sanford, at least do him right.”
“who the fuck is Weezy then?”
“the Jeffersons.”
“oh yeah…the Jeffersons. hey look at this. i’ve been asked to write something for the company. seems my literary skills are finally paying off, bitch. it says i should devote my full attention to completion of the project. i got a deadline and everything. seems as if i arrived, don’t it?”
“i thought i smelled something.”
Johnny St. Clair wuz here at 11:58 PM
2 Comments:
shut up?
I know when to shut up.
Don't have to tell me twice.
I can shut up.
I can keep my mouth shut.
When my daddy told me to shut up, I shut up.
Wouldn't say a word.
One time, damn near starved to death.
Wouldn't tell him I was hungry.
Bossman:GOOD MORNING DR JOHNSON, HOW ARE YOU TODAY?!!!!!!!!!!
Doc:Great. Things never went this well until you got here. How are you?
IF I WERE ANY HAPPIER, I'D BE RETARDED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
...
I think I'm going to have to burn his house down.
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