And puppies cry….

‘Tis the season to be jolly, right? Not so if you’re The Grinch, who is one of the main highlights of my day (note the sarcasm here). The Grinch (T.G. for short) is the boss over myself and Nip/Tuck boss (pay attention here). T.G. is pretty youngish, attractive, incredibly anal, and stupendously lacking any sense of humor. Cleaning is her favorite pastime, and if things don’t go exactly her way, all chaos ensues. When other people crack jokes in meetings, we all laugh, until we see her sour, pinched up, “that’s not funny” face, and then all laughter awkwardly subsides. Plants shrivel up and die when she walks by. It’s so bad that people who have to regularly work with her come to me deliberately early in the morning when they know she’s not in, to leave me questions to ask her, or documents to pass along. Because they are terrified. For their lives, their souls, their manhood, all of it. Or they’ll tiptoe in here, hoping she won’t notice them to yell at them about something incompetent they supposedly did. (“Idiot” is her favorite adjective – no joke).

She also likes to yell. A lot. About ANYTHING. Not just when she’s upset, although that is a majority of the time. Things like, “I LIKE CHEESE!!”. It’s like okay, we’re not all deaf over here. We get it, you like cheese. The funny thing about her yelling, much like everything else, is that there is no changed tone of voice to express happiness, enthusiasm, sadness, etc. It’s all said in the same tone, so it’s hard to know when she’s being serious or not. 99.9% of the time I figure it out when she says something and starts laughing at herself like it’s the funniest thing in the world. Cue me joining in but having no idea what was so funny. Clearly hers is a one-of-a-kind sense of humor, but I feel like the big loser for having to maniacally laugh at something that either a) wasn’t funny, b) was mean, or c) I couldn’t even understand because she talks so damn fast. Most of the time it’s all of the above.