I've written several times for this
blog and elsewhere about slipping into events with free wine and
tasties. I don't often mention the events I attend with my boss
because very little happens at these.
After all, I am there to scout out the
room before he gets there. I approach a few who I know will want to
speak to him or him to them and I try for the life of me to remember
something about them to mention when I subtly push my boss in their
direction. He doesn't always need someone to guide him around the
room and direct to who and what he speaks about but there will always
be days when his brain is just too damn busy to do these sort of
things himself. It's in those situations when I feel over-dressed for
my role as carer.
The two of us were in such an
environment recently and my face was starting to hurt from the fake
smiling whilst my brain screamed for me to go hard at the wine table.
We had been there for approximately 30 minutes when my boss
disappeared from the room suddenly. He knows better than to leave
without telling me so, dear readers, I just assumed he had headed to
the little boys room. Looking back, oh how I wish I had been wrong.
Having circled the room several times,
checked the hallway outside and the reception area, I had no where
else to look but outside on the street. My first instinct was to
panic before I convinced myself that he knew better than to get into
a stranger's car and none of the puddles around where deep enough for
him to drown in.
Suddenly he was calling me and rather
than hiss “Where the f*ck are you?” I forced out a calm and
concerned “Are you alright, you had me worried?”
“Come to the mens toilet, right
now!” I have a male flatmate so this sentence did nothing but fill
me with despair.
“Oh no, why?”
“For God's sake woman!”
“Okay, okay.” I could already see
his head poking out if the toilets as I approached. My dear boss
looked pale and sweaty. I was detecting the mad vibe from him and not
in the Boris 'Jolly' Johnson kind of way.
“I need you to take this and then
leave without speaking to anyone here. Don't stop until you find a
bin and then get rid of it.”
I pointed at the knotted bin bag in his
hand. Deep breath Flick, oh god no, that was a bad idea. “If that's
what I think it is... Why can't you leave it in there?”
“And if someone finds it? Felicity, I
am not asking!”
“You do not pay me enough for
this.”
And that was how I found myself angrily
stomping my heels down the street trying to find a bin, and then
running away nearly hysterical when the bang landed with a thud.
At my request, the boss promised to
never step foot in the restaurant where he'd had lunch that day, and
I've taken to carrying around anti-bacterial wet wipes. His way of apology was a bottle of wine
and slap on the bum. I'm sure that if I wasn't such Single Sally I
wouldn't have giggled as much. Just call me Enemy of the Sisterhood!
Toodles xx
