Dad and I (Sara) work together.
…
Go ahead. Take a moment to mull that one over. Really
consider the implications of that statement. I willingly work alongside the man
who constantly asks me if I’m a lesbian and eats popcorn out of the trash. In a
professional environment. 40 hours a week. To answer your question: no, I am
not a masochist. Nor am I trying to muster up the courage to commit suicide.
Well, I suppose technically we don’t work together. He works on the enterprise team
and I’m on the federal team. But his office is just a stone’s throw away from
my cubicle. And even with his office door closed, that notorious Bowyer voice
can still be heard by the majority of the office.
I wonder if we could get a patent on our vocal chords?
Anyways, this situation has made me witness to all of dad’s
ridiculousness, whether it happens at home or on the job. For instance, a few
weeks ago he was checking his voicemail in the morning.
Cisco 7941 IP Phone: Please
enter your PIN, followed by the pound key.
Dad: Fuck. You.
It’s fairly common to hear dad make a phone call to
McGonagall*, his supporting inside sales rep. With his door open, he dials her
on speakerphone and they proceed to discuss whatever he’s called her about.
Except McGonagall’s office is one door away from Dad’s, so everyone can hear
the conversation as well as the echo from their phones.
Sara: You both
know that instead of making a call, you could just talk, right?
McGonagall: Mind
your own business, Junior**.
Dad: Yeah, Sawa.
Get back to work.
Another day, my boss and I were sitting in dad’s office,
discussing my future financial plans.
Lupin: So when
you buy a condo, are you going to live alone or get a roommate?
Sara: I’ll get at
least one roommate. I’ve already got one person in mind.
Lupin: Have you
talked about it with her already?
Sara: Yes…but
it’s a he. A gay he, though, so there’s not much of a difference.
Dad: I swear,
she’s got more gay friends than straight. I’m a little concerned.
Sara: Why is that
concerning?
Dad: Well
eventually it’s going to rub off on you. I’m pretty sure it already has.
One Friday, at about 4:30, I was sitting in my cubicle
trying to keep myself busy until 5:00, when my day ends. The company’s
president walked by and gave me permission to knock off early. Later that
evening I made the rookie mistake of telling dad…
Dad: Dumbledore
told you that you could leave early?
Sara: Yep! I
guess that means I’m doing well, right?
Dad: I don’t know
why, but he seems to like you.
Sara: Maybe it’s
because I do a good job?
Dad: No, that
can’t be it…
Sara: I’m pretty
sure that’s the reason.
Dad: Quit being
snotty, I’m trying to think.
*I’ve used Harry Potter characters in place of actual
people’s names…not sure why. I guess there could be some sort of liability
issue, but I doubt it. I just really want to believe that I work at Hogwarts.
**This is the nickname everyone at work has decided on for
me. It’s a combination of me being new AND the daughter of an outside sales
rep. I do not condone its use, and as a result I strongly identify with Rabbit
from Super Troopers. If you don’t get that reference, watch the movie. You’ll
thank me later.
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