. . . and then you get chewed up and spat out.
My boss is driving me freakin' crazy. She always says completely obvious things and then says, "Know what I mean, jellybean?" And if I don't respond adequately, she asks me again if I know what she means. For example (these are just from the last nineteen minutes that I have been at work):
Her: I really need a cushion for my chair.
Me: Mm-hmm.
Pause.
Her: Know what I mean, jellybean?
Me: Mm-hmm.
Her: Do you know what I mean? (beady-eyed stare to make sure I acknowledge the full weight of her need for a cushion)
Me (in my head): Of course I know what you mean, you freakin' nutjob. Let's see, you said, "I need a cushion," so I'm guessing you mean, "I need a cushion." Do you think you're Sappho or Emily Dickinson or something, "Because I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me, The carriage held but just ourselves, And no cushion for my hiney????" What do you want me to do, write a little jingle to sing in lament of your cushionlessness? Get over yourself, princess.
Me (in reality): Mm-hmm.
Or another:
Her: I want to make sure I give the patient the right forms.
Me (nodding emphatically in agreement): Yup.
Her: Know what I'm saying, Ronald Reagan?
Me (stifling gag reflex): I sure do.
Her: Because if we gave the patient the wrong forms, they would have the wrong forms.
Me (struggling to grasp the advanced arithmetic that one (1) batch of wrong forms equals, erm, one (1) batch of wrong forms): Uh-huh! (trying to sound bright and perky)
Her: You know?
Me (in my head): Maybe if you pulled your head out of your hee-haw long enough to notice that you are actually speaking audibly to another person and said person is responding audibly to you, then I could stop spending half of my workday figuring out new and ingenious ways to say, "Yes," and we could actually get some work done around here.
Me (in reality): Yes.
Anyway, just thought you'd enjoy a slice of office life to go with your morning coffee. (HAHA!)
6 comments:
I will be sure to never say know what I mean around you. There may be some dangerous residual after effects.
Feel free to say, "Know what I mean." I say "ya know?" all the time. But if I confirm that I know what you mean, please refrain from asking me three more times if I know. It's the redundancy - that and the cutesy phrases that drip nauseatingly from the tongue - but mostly the redundancy that I find exasperating. I mean, how many times can you perkily say, "Oh! Mm-hmm! I sure do know what you mean! Yesireebob, I know what you mean down deep in my bones!" before you sound like a psychotic robot?
HAHAHA, can you imagine actually having a robot that did that?
I should invent one. "The Yes-Man." Activated at the sound of your boss's voice. Rotates through a host of appreciative and agreeable statements:
"Mmmmmm! Great idea!" (in an appreciative purr)
"I'll get right on that!"
"Thank you, ma'am, may I have another?"
"Yessuh massah suh." Or alternatively, "Yazzum Miss Scahlett."
"Oh, you ARE brilliant!" Complete with vigorous head bobbing.
and in Dr. K's honor, "Okeedokee Smokey!" and "Sounds like a plan, Stan!"
Hahaha, know what I'm sayin' Ronald Reagan - that's freaking funny! I feel for you sister... I think I've been putting off making an appointment because I'm horrified of her!
Give her a: "Oh, I'm well aware, Deleware"! haha:)
or: "I catch your drift.... wood." (funny when I thought it...)
HAHAHA! I am snorting my tea out of my nose over here! I will definitely hace to break out some "drift . . . wood" on her hiney!
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