I Shagged My Boss...and i need a new job
hi this is kate from italy (accompanied by her faithful sidekick and i've just started a blog about having shagged my boss and needing a new job. Come check it out at http://ishaggedmyboss.blogspot.com/
Saturday, 1 September 2007
on getting fired
Sometimes I get really nervous about things. Like for instance if in the middle of the night if I were to see the lights in the stairwell opposite my bedroom window flickering on and off - I might worry that some arbitrary grandma had fallen down, couldn’t get up and was sending up the modern day equivalent of smoke signals in order to get my able-bodied attention. I would try to ignore this – telling myself that I was just being paranoid, “You are just being paranoid!�, but I might grow so nervous as to get semi-dressed and decide to bring down the recycling. Bringing down the recycling is really just an excuse to myself (and anyone I might encounter) as to why I am lurking in the neighbouring building’s stairwell – but it is likewise a good act in and of itself....for the environment etc. and so forth.
In Italy there are large, colour-coded recycling bins in the street. Most people won’t use them because an urban legend has it that the mafia-run waste management corporation really mix everything together in the same truck when they collect it at 4 or 5am. Precisely when all civilised people are sleeping – all except for the world’s felled grandmas and boss-shaggers.
Like a fallen angel I am a felled boss-shagger. I am also a fired and therefore felled consultant – but I am not really nervous about it, I mean, it’s not the real reason I’m up at 4am.
How I got myself fired is a subject I feel compelled to cover, but only in a nutshell-like way and only as objectively as I possibly can (I have a deep sense of fairness).
Basically my “Maybe he is going to fire me...� apprehensions (and resulting neurosis and hair twiddling) began mid-July when my boss (ex-guy-i-was-sleeping-with-who-never-graduated-to-boyfriend-status of 7 months at that point) saw that I was having too much fun in the outside world and thought it high time he lock himself in my office and read every email and skype chat I had ever sent, received or participated in – having had, only minutes earlier, sent me to the slow-to-serve-you-without-a-smile Italian post office (curse you Posta Italiana!) for an estimated hour-long wait in order to post one bleeping letter).
The knowledge acquired during those 94 non-billable minutes sent him into a jealous–McKinsey Mind-ex-ante rage resulting in a short-lived 17% increase in testosterone output causing a permanent 3.5% decrease in hair to his already balding 43 year-old head. Yes it is true (and the intern fetching coffee has the PowerPoint presentation to prove it).
So – here in the very nutshell I promised you – over the last 6 weeks I have been fired on average once every 72 hours. My email password has been deactivated and reactivated just as frequently – because I believe that my boss doesn’t really want to get rid of me, but rather derives unbridled delight from the act of torturing me both financially and psychologically.
The second to last time I was fired was on the 10th of August when I unceremoniously learned that the firm I worked for had no intention to pay myself nor any of the other 3 employees their rather meagre salaries during the month of August. This is a detail which I had overlooked the previous August when I had been an unpaid intern.
The last time I was fired was a few days ago on the 31st of August. I presume you are wondering why I wasn’t fired more frequently in the month of August. This is due to the fact that my boss was on vacation in Sardinia with his legally-separated-from wife who he left for 3 months a few years ago but then moved back in with – at least until he can (quote) “find something better because at least she knows how to cook and iron my Zegna shirts� (unquote).
Fire me once.
Shame on you.
Fire me twice.
Shame on me.
Fire me five times.
I twiddle my hair.
Fire me ten times.
I begin recording our conversations with USB stick smartly hidden in my bra.
Add this link to...
Tell a friend
Comments
smart girl , he sounds heartless when making that comment about moving back in with his wife until he finds something better - did he really use that word - because if he referred to her as a "thing" that is very telling of his issues with females. Even if he didn't and said "someone" it still is cold.