As I got up out of the chair, I felt very light-headed. Not to worry. My blood pressure wasn't at 9-1-1 levels. I simply had had 5 pounds of hair removed by my barber.
That's what happens when the joys of work keep you from getting a haircut. My last one was before Halloween. Scary.
It also didn't help that I had begun to enjoy my long, flowing, artificially-colored brown hair. I looked like an older, sexy Fabian - if Fabian had a stressful day-job, graying hair, early stages of wrinkles, and no sex-appeal. Aside from those minor differences, people would consider us twins. Especially if those people were blind.
Regardless, the other day my boss was fretting over the upcoming investors meeting. When he saw me, he remarked that I looked a little too shaggy. I said, "Great, you be Scooby-Doo and we'll solve this mystery of 'our vanishing paychecks while the company has record profits.'" ... to myself. With maturity comes the knowledge of when to be a smart-ass and when keep certain thoughts suppressed.
My boss continued by saying my "unconventional mane" might suggest that I have a beef with the company. I said, "Great, I was planning to begin my presentation by offering hamburgers to the investors."
This, I said out loud. Sometimes, you have to push the envelope - even if it might contain a pink slip. Besides, I understand McDonald's double cheese burger has some cow. (I read that on the Internet. So it must be true.)
I also reminded him that my looks might be unconventional because everyone else at that meeting would be bald. Not the best look on our 55-year old human resource director - Mrs. Winklestein. Even so, with her at the meeting, I figured my long hair wouldn't attract much attention. The investors would spend more time reflecting. So to speak.
Still, my boss gently suggested - "gently" on this side of threatening unemployment - that, if the powers-that-be ever consider pay-raises, I could be a hair's width away from having my extra efforts, my unpaid overtime, and my subtle attempts at ass-kissing wiped out.
As I got up out of the chair from our little chat, I felt very light-headed. My blood pressure was "You win this time" over "This isn't over".
2 comments:
Is it ok that I think your boss is a major dick? If people are allowed to go bald at your place of employment why can't you compensate for the "workplace hair shortage" by wearing your hair longer. I think it is a leap to assume long hair equates to having a beef with the company. Although, I think it may be your Constitutional right to hate your place of employment. Well, actually it's the Declaration of Independence that says your entitled to the pursuit of happiness but maybe your boss won't pick up on that. Freedom of speech should give you a little leverage.
The pink slip you mentioned would be headed my way rather quickly if I were ever to work there.
Seriously, you should be a stand up comic. Your are a riot.
I guess should have added a disclaimer first: "Some of the people and incidents may have been a little embellished - ok, greatly exaggerated - for comic effect."
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