Sunday, February 23, 2003
at 7:19 PMDeadlier Than Ebola
I finished my senioritis newspaper story. It turned out well, considering how I loathe the newswriting style. I snuck in some slightly subversive humor; now it only remains to be seen if Mr. Faldyn catches it.
Richard confided his intent to quit work very soon. This information displeases me greatly, as I consider Richard a more genuine coworker than some of the others (even though they all are nice enough). He claims he wants a "fun" workplace. I told him "good luck", quite sarcastically (and bitterly, of course).
Byron, the house (restaurant) manager, for some reason known only to himself calls every female "sister". I am female. Byron calls me "sister". When Byron calls me "sister", I want to deck him one across the eyebrows and call him "brothah". I refrain from decking Byron, who is the house (restaurant) manager, across the eyebrows (calling him "brothah"), though, because if I was to deck Byron across the eyebrows with all the force in my pudgy body, Naomi (who is the retail manager) would fire me. Naomi does not call me "sister", for which I am extremely grateful.
Having ovaries does not make me Byron's sister. Perhaps I shall confide this to him, by less blunt means, when it next occurs to me.
