This Needs Washing Out
It's not new information to tell you my boss is a prick, but here's an example of his pricky-ness.
It was warm in our office, and Turkey had a scheduled meeting with three people. I confirmed with him that he wanted to hold the meeting in a certain conference room. Then he told me, "Put out a pitcher of water since it's hot out. And I'll want some too."
Normally I just ask people as they arrive if they'd like something to drink, but fine. I out five glasses, found a pitcher, rinsed it, and filled it with cold water. I didn't use the fancy silver pitcher already in the conference room because I vaguely remembered being told it was for decoration.
Turkey came out of the conference room with the pitcher I'd filled. He placed it on my desk, empty. "We're thirsty; you'd better fill up both." I raised my eyebrows, surprised that the water was already gone. Turkey told me, "It's really warm." So I said okay and went to fill up the pitcher he'd given me a second time.
When I walked into the conference room to deliver the second round of water, I couldn't reach the silver pitcher without leaning across the table, and not only would I have flashed the guy sitting across from where I was, but my body would have interrupted the conversation. Turkey however, didn't want to let me go without filling the silver pitcher, so he reached over, grabbed it, and passed it over, without even looking at me. "It needs washing out."
Dismissed, I turned and walked out. I rinsed the silver pitcher, filled it with cold water, then returned it to the table. It took every ounce of self-control to keep from pouring it in Turkey's lap. It's a very small comfort that he did that in front of clients.
It was warm in our office, and Turkey had a scheduled meeting with three people. I confirmed with him that he wanted to hold the meeting in a certain conference room. Then he told me, "Put out a pitcher of water since it's hot out. And I'll want some too."
Normally I just ask people as they arrive if they'd like something to drink, but fine. I out five glasses, found a pitcher, rinsed it, and filled it with cold water. I didn't use the fancy silver pitcher already in the conference room because I vaguely remembered being told it was for decoration.
Turkey came out of the conference room with the pitcher I'd filled. He placed it on my desk, empty. "We're thirsty; you'd better fill up both." I raised my eyebrows, surprised that the water was already gone. Turkey told me, "It's really warm." So I said okay and went to fill up the pitcher he'd given me a second time.
When I walked into the conference room to deliver the second round of water, I couldn't reach the silver pitcher without leaning across the table, and not only would I have flashed the guy sitting across from where I was, but my body would have interrupted the conversation. Turkey however, didn't want to let me go without filling the silver pitcher, so he reached over, grabbed it, and passed it over, without even looking at me. "It needs washing out."
Dismissed, I turned and walked out. I rinsed the silver pitcher, filled it with cold water, then returned it to the table. It took every ounce of self-control to keep from pouring it in Turkey's lap. It's a very small comfort that he did that in front of clients.
Labels: Rage Against the Green, Turkey
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