"uhh Jamie, there izz somezzing wrong with thizzz," he said in his French accent.
Shit I must've messed up on the number of shares again, or forgot to change the date, I thought. I always seemed to make stupid mistakes.
"I don't like when thizzz izzz like thizzz. I don't undehhhstand why you would do it like thizzz and not like thizzz." He said as he pointed to the alignment of the lefthand-side staple.
"Oh, ok." I said, unsure of what just happened. Was he really giving me critiques
on my staple alignment? He must not know that I am a college graduate. A slightly askew 90 degree angle staple is a problem?! That French asshole Behhhnard is lucky I even take the time to staple his effing sheets. From that point on I literally had to focus my hands on stapling straight and if it wasn't a good staple I would switch his copy with someone else's. Ridiculous.
Last November I was chosen to go on a business trip with Behhnard to Boston for a financial trade show. I was the assistant who would do all the bitch-work for him. Great, this is going to be the weekend from hell. I arrived to the convention center and our booth had n-o-t-h-i-n-g. No carpet, no table, no chairs. What do I do? I thought about stealing one of the other booth's stuff. No. That's not right. I end up going over to the supply people and order $500 worth of booth supplies. The nice Boston accented workers helped me out a TON and I managed to set it all up. whhheewww.
The next morning was the first day of the convention. My cell phone rings as I am ironing my shirt.
"ughhh Jamie. I have some good news and some bad news. The bad news izzz that I am late coming iiiiin on the train. The good news izzz you get to be a biiiiiig girl and be in the booth my youhhself"
This is just fabulous. What do I know about selling mutual funds??! I stand in the booth from 8am until 1pm smiling and chatting with random passersby trying my best to AVOID talking about mutual funds.
He finally arrives and immediately heads off to get himself a plate of food. This man is unbelievable! I have been standing here for 5 hours and I am starving and my face hurts from fakey chit chat smiling!
"ughhh Jamie, you can go geeet some food iiiif you like" he says. Thanks for the permission, jerk.
The rest of the day goes by with him completely rearranging how I set up the booth, him making me stand in front and smile while he sits and reads his newspaper. He makes me staple his business cards to the flyers. I have shaky hands trying to make perfect 90 degree angles. Just alight the staple parallel to the top of the paper. You can do this Jamie.
At one point he had the brilliant idea that all Chinese people at the convention were wealthy investors and he literally made me CHASE a group of Asians across the convention center to give them a brochure. This is humiliating. THEN he has the idea that I am a good salesperson and says he wants me to hold his sign and walk up and down the aisle Vanna White style to advertise our booth. I refuse.
At the end of the night he disappeared for awhile and came back with purple stained teeth, smelling like a bottle of merlot. This is when he begins quizzing me on option trades.
"iiiiif your jacket costs $100, at what price do you sell the rights for someone to buy iiiiit at $90?"
huh?
He continued to try and give me examples of ways that I would understand the concept of a put and a call. I had been in this convention center booth for 12 hours and am being quizzed on OPTION TRADES by a drunken Frenchman. I DO NOT WANT TO DO THIS RIGHT NOW. Lucky for me, the convention center lights were shut off in the middle of this conversation, but he continued the finance tutorial sesh all the way up the escalators, out the door, and the entire cab ride to the hotel.
The next day was a half day, but my cell phone rings at 6:45am with Behhnard telling me to go buy markers and tape because he wants to make a new sign for today. I fast forward my makeup and hair straightening routine so I can run to Staples. He is unhappy with my purchases and makes me go buy another kind of tape. This man is impossible. What I should have bought at Staples is an easy button.
The second it is announced that the day is over he packs up his wheelie suitcase and leaves me to pack up all the stuff and tear down the booth by myself. Why was I surprised? After that I passive aggressively made his staples a just a little bit crooked.
an automatic stapler would be IMPOSSIBLE with behh.
ReplyDeleteThis sounds horrible... could you sue for sexual harrassment after the Vanna White suggestion?
ReplyDeleteTotally not related to your above post (which is awesome), but you should put a song playlist on your page. That would be neat. :)
ReplyDeleteThe Staple thing izzzz weird, but my main "weirded out" moment is really with za food. "Jamie you can get some food if you liiiiiike." ICKY. I hate when people suggest what you should do or can do while at work. And in reference to the romantic, I think its a great idea to file for a suit, I mean ka-ching! ka-ching! Although then you'd have to meet up with Frenchie for part 2 of the story which really isn't worth it.
ReplyDeleteI TOTALLY had to align the staples for my old job too! Our summer camp applications had to be PERFECT when sent to my director in the states and considering she has not updated the application process since the 70's...she was very set in her ways. I understand your pain!
ReplyDelete