“You should have told me! Next time, ask me first. I probably can help you way more than any of those doctors who charge so much and yet spend so little time with you. They’re just in and out nowadays. I mean I don’t have a degree, but I’m almost a doctor. I’ve been around doctors enough – my whole family is doctors – so I know enough about how to diagnose and treat just about anything of the run of the mill things you might run into – you know not like cancer or some rare blood disease, but most of the usual stuff. What are your symptoms?”
Margaret tried to move undetectably away from Jonathan. “Sure, OK. Well, actually I’m going to have to go now. Don’t want to be late.”
“You don’t want to be late? What about them being late all the time? Making you wait for hours in the waiting room. Don’t touch the magazines, by the way. I read a study where they tested those things and they found the top ten most dangerous bacteria and viruses on them. Then when you finally do get into a room, you get to sit there on that uncomfortable table, freezing in a paper gown for another thirty minutes. Make them wait! They deserve it!”
Mr. Horsebath was having a horrible day. He had just completed his usual fourteen hour shift at Nimrod’s Outdated Electronics where he managed the Photo and Synthesis department. It was late August – the zenith of summer heat and humidity. He exited the store with his assistant in tow and made his way toward the subway entrance, wilting with every step. His black wool suit was absorbing the sun’s heat and becoming soaked. His big black hat was heating his balding head up like a dutch oven. Continue reading
You know what we’re going to need, right? Better customer engagement practices! Better product feature presentations! And better logistics management!
Gloria Goose wanted to vomit. How many times did she have to endure these endless staff meetings where some asshole director gets up there and shits nonsense out of his mouth. At least once a week, apparently.
“Give me a fucking break,” she whispered to her friend sitting next to her, Pedro Pig. He gave her a commiserating look back and shook his head.
“We are also going to need to put in more hours while we wind up our fiscal year. As you all know, this is our big push going into the holiday season, and we’re going to need all hands on deck to be able to support the biggest selling season of the year.”
All was well in the ant colony: The queen was having hundreds of babies, the worker ants were taking care of those babies as well as building new tunnels for them to live in, the soldier ants were defending the nest and procuring food, and the male drones, who only had half the genes of the females (and probably half the IQ, the females would often joke), were basically just hanging around the colony until spring when they would fly off, mate with a fertile female from another colony, and then die shortly thereafter. Continue reading