One of my employees is the epitome of Southern ladyhood. Unlike KimDog, Ms. JCE, didn't quite fail as a Southern belle, but she seems to come pretty close. Connected to every well-to-do family in Memphis, I hired her because she is socially connected. But I do know that she is somewhat of a black sheep. On her first day in the office, I caught her five-fingering a bottle of wine that had been donated for a gala, to which I could only whisper, "go ahead. It's not properly cellared anyway." She also dated Elvis, but that's another story.
Today, after a particular rough meeting that tried every ounce of my patient, I got in the car and turned to one of my employees and apologized for my French.
"I'm so fucking pissed off, I could just spit," I fumed. "If I could have, I would have gotten up from the table and knocked that C-U-Next-Tuesday for a loop."
"C-U-Next-Tuesday?" she asks.
"Yeah, C-U-N..." I trailed off and left the last letter to her.
"Oh I totally agree. She's a bee-yotch and a c-u-next-tuesday," she agreed. "Would you like some Xanax? I have some in my purse."
Somehow, I think we crossed a line.
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1 comment:
tell me about your Xanax and wine hangover tomorrow... ;-)
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