2005-03-10 - 1:22 p.m.
Once, at a previous company I was consulting at, I noticed this incredibly gorgeous young lady standing nervously by the secretary’s desk. She looked a bit out of place, a bit nervous. She was young. As I lustfully eyed her up and down, I thought to myself that she couldn’t be older than 20. I discreetly asked my officemate if the smoking hot babe with the perky tits was the new receptionist.
“Andy, that’s my daughter. She’s 14, you fuckhead. It’s Bring Your Daughter To Work Day.”
“Oh.”…Another career ending comment by Andy.
Still, I thought, he shouldn’t let his daughter dress like a slut.
In a few weeks, they’re having a “Bring Your Kid to Work Day” here at my new gig.
I'm so thrilled I could puke. Happy happy joy joy.
I don’t have kids, which means all the work that day will be thrown on me, because employees with children will be far too busy trying to convince their children that their mommy or daddy does something very important, fun and cool. When in actuality, they are responsible for ordering urinal cakes.
Basically, this means that the place will be turned into a giant day care. The cafeteria will be clogged with children. By the end of the day, any cool toys that I may have had on my desk will be missing or broken. Mental note: Hide my limited edition troll dolls.
Of course, all the good office treats will be snatched up or have slobber all over them.
It is always interesting to watch the parents with really crappy jobs trying to make their job look as exciting as possible “See Bobby? This is wear daddy calculates the shipping costs! Wheeeeee! Over here is printer cartridge. Want to see daddy change the printer cartridge? Do you?”
”And over there is the office slut your dad’s cheating on your mommy with” I will mutter under my breath as I stare over the ever growing pile of work on my desk.
I guess I will have to be nice to Joe, the office asshole when he brings his kid in. I’ll say “Hi” and pretend I like him, as not to embarrass him in front of his kids.
I remember last year, passing Joe in the hallway with his child in tow. Sweat was beading on his forehead, as he silently pleaded us with fear in his eyes “Please wave to me and say hi. Please, please, please. For the love of god, don’t let my daughter know how much I am loathed.” Pathetic.
Got to remember not to ask Greg about his hangover or if his bookie is still trying to kill him.
If I am in a nice mood perhaps I’ll also remind him to delete all the porn off his hard drive before he lets his 12 year old play solitaire. Perhaps not. Maybe as he lies to his kid about how important he is, I’ll remind him that the big guy wants the urinal cakes changed out by noon or he’ll chew him a new asshole.
I should also point out to creepy Steve that it’s bring *Your* kid, not *any* kid to work day. Lord knows we don’t need the police and Social Services showing up here again.
Of course I’ll never forget that one really weird, “Bring Your Kid to
Work Day” They had over at the strip joint. Talk about awkward….
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