Friday, September 29, 2006

Flamingo, unlikely ally of the baboon.



I realize a lot of Dick is hard to swallow but there is an older post featuring him accusing me of stealing dirt from his front garden, if you are so inclined. It didn’t get any comments way back in March which just goes to show Dicks go in and out… of fashion.

Our next contestant is the Hen Lady who does the accounts at work. She’s one of those ultra-nervous, easily flustered, constantly complaining, tight lipped, dried-out, frizzy-haired absolute hens of a woman. Got the nervous system of a chicken, is what I’m saying. There are three offices upstairs, mine then the other planner’s and then her. Those two yack and complain (he’s like a 38 yr old Hen Boy) and commiserate with each other all day…like some twisted mother and son act. I think she has a crush on him.

Well this woman owes me 9 hours pay, at time and a half too, I believe. One of these past 13 hour days I didn’t get my hours to her in time, mainly because I was nowhere near the office that day. Actually I faxed them to her and when I saw her next I asked did she receive it. She smiled and said “Oh yes I did. But I’d already done the pay so I just paid you for a normal week.” No sweat, said I, assuming she’d just stick it on the next pay…I was, after all, late getting it to her.

Last week, as you remember, I was broadcasting by time delay from lovely Cronulla when once again the nine hours she owes me was not forwarded to my account by convenient electronic bank transfer - no once again I received a normal week’s pay. That’s twice. I figured ok, I’m not at work so maybe it slipped her mind…

Yesterday was payday and when I checked the account this morning there was a little overtime from this week…but no nine hours. Alright that’s three. I’m new there and I want to be careful just yet about getting into battles, although it can be arranged at short notice. I figured I’ll wait till she gives me my pay-slip just to be absolutely sure there isn’t some innocent mistake before I go and fluster her and set her complaining to god knows who about the big tall American bully, thinks he’s so flash…look at him, just waltzes in here disturbing us with his “ideas” and his calculator with too many buttons, clearly not refined like Chicken Boy. Chicken Boy has a briefcase. (I have a really cool backpack for my notebook and toys.) By the way, she has worked there only three months herself.

I didn’t get a pay-slip. Come to think of it I haven’t ever had a pay-slip. I hadn’t counted on this. Maybe I’ve got a fundamental misunderstanding of the system.

Did I mention my boss, one of the owners, used to work for my old company? So we were sort of work mates before, although he was an installer and I only saw him when he came in to the factory. And he happens to live near me, and I get a lift to work with him, which saves me about $30 a week in fuel and means we chat a bit twice a day, before and after the event, as it were. I put this to him on the way home tonight and he said something about no longer trusting her since “it” happened. Then he sort of tried to laugh it off so I didn’t ask him what “it” was.

They say knowledge is power, and they are right for once. I’m pretty sure this woman is close to being fired and I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who knows. I can wait for my nine hours pay, but such knowledge must not be squandered. I’ll ask her about the pay next time I see her and I’ll be so very very interested in her every word and gesture, tone and demeanor. I’ll know what the next move is after I see that.

NYD suggested flamingos for my Dick problem (never thought you’d ever hear that phrase did you) and I think it’s brilliant. Now we are going to find the Hen Lady’s flamingo.

9 comments:

exile said...

they also sell famingo confetti, flamingo steamers, banners....

i say you make it so horrifyingly pink that it stains his driveway the next time it rains

SkookumJoe said...

actually the whole plastic pink flamingo trade is absent in Aus. Hard to find them. I could just pound lengths of re-bar into the ground, leaving them sticking up about 2 inches....

Ghetto Photo Girl said...

Wait, aren't you not-American? Like Sandra?

Also, I can hook you up with flamingos. I totally want to, too.

SkookumJoe said...

American, Canadian...it's all the same to them.

btw Dick came and mowed the lawn about an hour ago. I have video.

Unknown said...

Is this hen like Kids In The Hall's "Chicken Lady"? I used to work with a chicken lady who was way too similar to the sketch character - right down to the hair.

Anonymous said...

Alternative thoughts (although the flamingo idea=excellente): I suggest waiting until he's tucked up in bed and:
1. Sow weed seeds on his lawn.
2. Write "Dick is a Dick" (or similar) in bleach on his lawn.

I also think you should bring the Hen Lady cookies and charm the shit out of her. Bet you get your pay, also any gossip and it'll so piss off the Hen Boy. He should be baited.

Anonymous said...

i think you should buy a few junker cars from the scrap yard, pay no more than $10 each, then as soon as one of 'his' cars moves park in that spot. and on the drive.
and on the lawn.

SkookumJoe said...

I did offer the Hen Lady an Oreo She said "oh no! I couldn't have chocolate in the morning."

Ghetto Photo Girl said...

No fair. I can't have chocolate EVER.

Bring the Hen Bitch flowers, for her 3-month anniversary or whatever.

Because you definitely do catch more flies with honey than vinegar. And once you have them enthralled by your power, they'll be putty in your hands. Remember, power corrupts, but absolute power corrupts absolutely--and is a lot of fun!

I've now cliched myself into a coma. Good night.