CONFIDENT & ADAPTABLE

So, I'm temping. To make ends meet. Resume is generally administrative supporting high-level executives, so that's where I find myself being sent. The latest gig is thru the end of the year and I'm praying I'll last the duration. The agency said they were seeking someone who fits the description of "CONFIDENT and ADAPTABLE". Just like the word COZY translates to TINY in apartment listings, CONFIDENT and ADAPTABLE is a red flag for referencing a high-maintenance, ego- maniac, also known in admin circles as a SPECIAL NEEDS type. I know them well, in fact, I'm practically an expert, which is why I was called in. Actually, I think I was the only candidate that was considered. But it is decent pay for a temp job and a steady gig for just about as long as I could possibly take while I get my financial bearings, so I accepted the challenge.

The first time I met him, he was wearing a three-piece, navy-blue suit complete with a white hanky in the breast pocket, an older gentleman, a V.P. of marketing and development for another large corporate empire. Got me using a dictaphone to type his memos, thankfully on an actual computer and not a typewriter. The man has a a two-minute memory: famous for misplacing everything and then publically berating his assistant for losing whatever he misplaced. Technologically challenged: still hates that newfangled 'email' communication. Reeks of male chauvanism (I'm convinced he still believes women shouldn't speak unless spoken to). HA, HA! So, the fact that he ends up with me as an assistant is proof-positive that he's overdue for a karmic kick-in-the-ass. Wait 'til he gets a load of me!

MuHuHaHaHa...

To top it all off, he's suffers from both germaphobia and triskaidekaphobia (fear of the number 13) and I'm not even joking! If this wasn't the stuff characters are made of, I don't know what is. He's my latest character study. The V.P. of H.R. is counting on me to whip in into shape and bring him into the 21st century.

Knife and fork for your candy bar? Sure thing, Mister Pitt.

Let the games begin....