The Workday Fiasco

Today’s just such a weird day. The first day of real snow for us here in upstate New York and for me, my usual workday, gone crazy. I got up early around six-thirty a.m, rushing around in half a dream as I wolfed down breakfast and got onto the bus around seven-forty. Drive, drive, drive all the way half an hour into the next town and stand around and freeze, freeze, and shivery freeze till our transfer comes. Get on, ride, ride, ride all the way to the shopping plaza where the pet store, where I work, is and show up at the door around eight-thirty a.m. The supervisor opens the door and says, “Wait a minute, the dogs are all sick today.” At first I thought she was kidding.
“You’re kidding?” I’m incredulous, mind racing as I realize Mom’s going to have to pick me up, unless I feel like hanging around for the next six and a half hours before the bus for home shows. No way. I was ticked and sat down in the little office, calling Mom over and over, but the line was busy. Mom blabbing to a relative now that the Thanksgiving trip’s coming up. Apparently my manager from work tried calling yesterday evening to let me know not to come in today but the phone was busy for hours on end. So I got comfy and listened to the two older supervisors talk about the bad employee and how they wished they could stop smoking and eating Burger King Breakfast and all. I had a sugary doughnut and talked back to the rude Quaker parrot squawking noisily at me. IT really doesn’t like me, I translate from parrotan speech to English but all the cute whistling and clucking noises I made to make some kind of friendly conversation with Cranky Quaker failed. Guess I have to brush up more on my Dr. Do’Little skills.
The phone rang, and a weird person asked if the store sold straps that would hold up their female dog they claimed kept falling over during breeding. “NO, sorry,” the supervisor said, then hung up and we all sat there disgusted at the idea of the male humping the female so hard she collapsed under his bulk. “Just hold her up yourself,” suggested one of the supervisors and we all laughed.
I tried calling Mom through an emergency breakthrough by the operator but the operator was too busy to breakthrough. Darn. Apparently the operator didn’t think my situation was a real emergency, or maybe she was too busy playing Free Cell on her computer to care. Finally I got ahold of Mom several minutes later, and she went on and on how she wanted to curl-iron her hair so she wouldn’t look like hell driving down the highway to get me, not that I thought anyone would care how she looked driving sixty miles an hour anyway. She claimed she’d be there at the store within a few minutes, which in her definition is an hour. “So an hour,” I translated. “Yeah,” she confirmed. OH, joy to the world.
I got bored and so with all the phones ringing like crazy I was allowed to be secretary for a day. I thought this was cool and got to sit in the big swivel chair at the desk and would answer the phone, then walkie-talkie a supervisor, since I had no clue on what the customers were asking about. I only bathe the puppies, so I know nothing about the business side of things at the store. A lady who sounded like a guy who needed another extra dose of testosterone called up and I couldn’t figure out what “he” wanted. IT turned out HE-woman wanted to set up an interview to work there, and hadn’t even filled out an application. What a bunch of nutbags!
So while my mind went over the depressing idea of not having a job for two weeks or so while the puppies were all being quarantined, I sat in my big swivel chair waiting for the phone to ring. Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes go by and no ring. Figures. I get to be secretary for a day and I’m already out of a job within twenty minutes, I joked to myself.
Ten o’clock the store opens and MOM showes up. I grabb my checks and head out the door, a supervisor calling, “Bye, Secretary! Enjoy your day off.” Sure. After I go home and sleep in. Can we start this day over?