High School Never Ends, Part Two
My boss, Jenny*, is the epitome of awesome. Fiercely protective of her staff, she doesn’t allow people from other departments – and in this case, people working for the larger company of Pickering LLC** – to screw with them. So when the collective of lunchtime shrews tried to screw me over, Jenny stepped in to ensure that the damage done was negligible.
It started like this: Jenny called me up to her office for one of our usual chats regarding the new projects we had been working on, new hires and new responsibilities and the like. What I didn’t expect to hear was an indictment of my own honesty as an employee. Though Jenny made it clear that she didn’t believe the rumors and knew better than she was being told, she felt it necessary to warn me, and for that I am grateful.
It had come to her attention not so much as a warning but more of a ‘heads up’ from dear Abby in HR, the babbling sidekick of the Dark Mistress of the Business Office, Ellie. Abby came to clandestinely – so she claimed – warn Jenny of a complaint filed with her in the HR office that my lunchtime compadre Dee and I were, quote, “taking long lunches”. She came to warn Jenny as she had been “forced” – her word – to report this to an administrator: Sally, a vindictive two-faced wench who is not only Cece’s direct boss, but also the one person at Pickering who was most adamant about having total control over everyone and everything.
Jenny, sweetheart that she is, hit the roof. First, she noted to the conniving Abby, Sally is not my supervisor – Jenny herself is. On top of that, as I technically work for Pickering Associates and not Pickering LLC, Abby is not even my HR representative, so any issues with my performance should be reported to our own HR man, Frank. Third, and quite honestly my favorite part of the argument, Jenny pointed out that I am good at my job and she trusts me implicitly and does not believe for a moment I would be taking advantage of my lunch hour.
What a sweetheart, eh? Gotta love the lady.
Better yet, she proceeded to go to bat for Dee, who is not even in her employ. She pointed out quite adamantly that Dee works under a different administrator, Ron, so any problems with Dee’s performance should be brought to his attention and no one else’s.
Meekly, Abby tried to infer that Dee was leaving the building at odd hours throughout the day and not clocking out, and others had seen it. Jenny shot back that Dee’s position as the head of the business records department caused her to leave to go to an outside storage facility, where older records are kept, quite often, and that she also ran errands for Ron himself – a task that, as billable work hours, caused her to remain clocked in. Damn. Don’t I just have the best boss in the world?
Jenny reiterated to me, after telling this story, that she trusts me completely and knows that I wouldn’t do such a thing. She did, however, make sure to advise me to, quote, “watch my back”, because Pickering is full of catty, hateful bitches who seem to fill their days with naught more but causing trouble. I agreed to be careful, and off I went.
As I left her office, I thought back to that day’s lunch hour. Dee hadn’t been feeling well and chose to spend the hour in her office, trying to relax for a bit. Given that I had no inclination to enter the Snake Pit alone, I took my lunch at my desk. Strangely, however, as I was waiting to board the elevator, Abby walked past and cast me a small smile and a wave. Odd behavior, to be sure, but following my conversation with Jenny, it all made sense.
As we were leaving the building that day, I related the story of what had went on to Dee. Having not been told of the vindictive hijinks of the Lunchtime Shrews, Dee was immediately riled up. One thing that you should know about Dee is that she is what I affectionately describe as ‘very Jesussy’; a loud and proud Christian in training to be a minister, Dee’s heart is full of the sort of love you’d expect from a true spiritual leader, and she is by no means obnoxious about it. She’s not the type to condemn anyone and simply wants to share the joy she feels. That being said, upon hearing the catty behavior that had been targeting us, she was spitting nails.
“That ain’t nothin’ but the devil,” she told me, determined not to let it bother her. On top of that, she added, we would continue to take our lunches in the open meeting room, but we would sit at the far end of the table to make it clear to the Ladies of Lunchtime Lunacy that we wanted nothing to do with them. I found myself agreeing with the idea. After all, what better way to show them that they couldn’t take us down?
While I am sure there have been occasions where I lost track of the time and dallied over my allotted hour for lunch, I know that it is not a regular habit. On top of that, Dee herself needs to relieve someone else for lunch every day, so we have always watched the time very carefully, as not to let the other girl, Alicia, get shortchanged for her lunch hour. What is so ludicrous about the whole situation is that Cece herself is by far the worst extended lunch hour offender there is. With Dee and I arriving to our lunch at 12:15 or so each day, Cece is already present and accounted for. When Dee and I leave at about 1:10 or 1:15, Cece is still there, already gone well over an hour. So who are they to throw stones?
As we mulled over the four suspects, Dee and I both came to the same conclusion: the mole had to be Ellie. Abby had refused to tell Jenny who had been tattling – or, really, making up stories – on the basis that as an HR professional she was bound to secrecy, but Dee and I knew it had to be one of the remaining three. Betty didn’t seem to care very much and Cece would be in danger herself if the tables were turned, leaving only Ellie, the self-styled Queen Bee. And honestly, what a bitch!
There comes a point when petty differences need to stop. This lie was not just putting Dee and I in hot water, but threatening our very livelihood. Were it proven that Dee was leaving the building for personal reasons but not punching out, she could be fired. In today’s economic climate, the disaster of such an incident would grow exponentially. So why take a petty disagreement and twist it into a web of lies that could be so damaging? There’s a point when stupid disagreements need to stop – lest Dee and I choose to reciprocate.
And boy do we have some dirt on those bitches.
This post has been brought to you by a can of Starbucks Doubleshot Energy + Coffee.
* Names have been changed to protect the writer from the shrewish lunch club.
** Right, like I’m really going to tell you the actual name of my employer.
