P.H. couldn’t predict how today (or this never ending week) would turn out. When she walked in, there had already been a lot of drama. The Hater, in perhaps the most conversation ever, shared the following tale of woe: one of the investment puppies had sent her a message the previous evening around 10PM, instructing her that he would be sending over some VERY IMPORTANT DOCUMENTS at some point in the night. The VID would be necessary, nay, vital, for a meeting the following morning. She forwarded the note onto the tea boy, telling him to come in early and print out the complicated document. She also told the driver he would be needed to pick up the 8 copies.
The tea boy messed up the printing, the driver left without the documents. The Puppy sent a very terse e-mail to the Hater.
Later in the day, the driver called to YELL at the Hater.
Tears. Lots and lots of tears. Nevermind there is a bathroom she could go to and boo-hoo to her heart’s content. She sits at her little desk and stirs attention from an uninterested P.H., the accountant, and tea boy.
P.H. made cooing sounds and tried to feign concern, when she really wanted to explain to the Hater, “Sweetheart, it’s YOUR JOB to see something simple like the printing of a document from start to finish. You have no one to blame but yourself. Also, it’s far more difficult in this town to find a driver than it is an assistant.”
P.H. also finds it rather sad that no less than FOUR of her coworkers passed the blame on this particular mishap.