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I think my boss is doing something cool in his office ...................Paul Ryan
If I were to keep my office door closed for two hours, my co-workers would definitely knock to find out what was going on. But since my boss is, well, the boss, we all feel awkward about disturbing him when the door is closed. We all have to assume that because he's the boss, he's doing something really important, and not something really cool like drinking a 40 of Olde English or building a Lego Space Command Station. Of course, he could also be doing something bad in there, like watching a dirty movie, adding cocaine to the instant coffee machine, or drowning kittens in a bucket. But he's never mentioned any of those hobbies before, and you'd think he'd laugh at us about the coffee afterwards while we convulsed on the floor with blood dripping out our nostrils. Oh, hey boss! I didn't know you read this column. Sorry about the "watching porn" joke! Ha ha! No hard feelings! Companies never fire people on Wednesdays, do they? Ha ha! Time to cash out the 401k. Seriously though, what happens if my boss dies in his office with the door closed? He'll probably be in there for a long time before we dare to knock or walk in, and with rigormortis, it'll be a bitch lugging the corpse downstairs. We'll probably have to push the body out the window, and if his arm breaks off from the fall or something, his wife is going to be pissed. And there goes any inheritance. Hopefully he's alive, though. I mean, who else is going to give me an employer reference for my next job? Sometimes I wonder if my dad ever closes the door to his office at work and goofs off. He's the boss at his company (David Fong's Cantonese Restaurant), and he has a TV in his office. He's never given a proper excuse for having a TV in his office, but I think it's because he likes to watch the soap opera "Port Charles" every morning. Myself, I hate watching TV, mainly because of the advertisements. Most commercials either involve food or sex, and since I'm diabetic and single, I don't get to have either of those things. Other unnecessary items in my dad's office include a putter, a radio, an awkward-looking picture of me from 1984, a gigantic bong, soiled underwear, a kiddie pool full of KY jelly, and three Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen posters.
But let's get back to my boss. He's coming out of his office now, and it looks as though he's ill. Since his wife (who also works at the newspaper) seems to be ill today as well, I can only imagine that he was coveting his own wife recently. Either way, I believe our mystery is solved. He was either vomiting, or vomiting while watching a dirty movie. Since he's also carrying a box of Kleenex under his arm, all evidence points to the latter.
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It's a strange day at The Newspaper
- which employs me - because my boss has been sitting in his office for about two hours now with the door closed. Since I'm paranoid about everything, this leads me to believe he's doing something really freakin' cool in there.
