Shake! Shake! Shake!

My new assistant seems to be working out pretty well–once I finally got him to stop calling me “Ms. James.”  I totally feel ages older than him.  I almost demanded that he call me Danni.  Not for pure reasons like wanting him to feel at home or anything noble like that.  With the age difference, and me training him, every time he added “Missus” in the front of my name, I felt like his 5th grade teacher and it went from fun flirting to creepy old lady talk in 0.2 seconds.  So, now, we have the perfect Roger- Danni relationship.  I must give him props.  I am pretty impressed with his office skills.  Not that I was completely prejudiced in thinking that, I was going to have to draw pictures for him; however, I was a bit concerned that I would occasionally hear him singing his alphabet in order to determine which letter comes first O or R.  With dimples that deep, it’s not odd for me to feel he may have a dent in his head somewhere.  Now, we will totally ignore the times I pat my feet to the tune of the alphabet song–we all KNOW I have an abyss created somewhere in the cavity of my brain.

Beep! “Ms. James”  Keith’s frustrated voice boomed through the intercom.  I closed my eyes and hoped he thought I was gone.  “Danni!  I know you are in the office and can hear me.  I didn’t hear you gallop out of the door yet.  Have you completely forgotten about me down here? Please don’t make me have to come…”

“I’m on my way!” I cut him off and say.  I promise you, one day, I will be able to shake myself so fast that I will morph into two different beings.  Perhaps then, I can get my stuff done while catering to everyone else’s needs of the world.  I get up from my desk and drag myself out of my door past Roger’s desk.  I look at him.

“I will be back as soon as I can.” I manage to assure him with a smile.

“I’ll be here.”

This boy’s momma better come get her child!  Here he is doing all this flirting and me here…fresh out of batteries.

I manage to trudge down the stairs.  By the time my foot hits the last stair at the bottom of the staircase, “Ms. James! I need you Ms. James”

Son-of-a “Coming, Mr. Howell.”  I manage to sing back, gleefully.  WHERE is his wife?  She knows I cannot accomplish anything while babysitting the Mister.

“UUUGGHHH!!” I hear Keith yell out in disgust.  I would, otherwise, put him in priority, but he knows the deal.  This isn’t his first day on the job.

I walk down the hall towards Mr. Howell’s office and I begin to hear the chuckle-like cackle of the two wise-men–Mr. Howell and Papa Amos.  Again, I go JUST up to the doorway and stop, pause and look, without emotion, at Mr. Howell who has tears in his eyes from obvious amusement at the current conversation.

“Ms. James!  Ms. James! Tell Mr. Amos about the new guy.  How is he doing?”

IS HE KIDDING ME!!  Is this the EMERGENCY I was bellowed for?

I manage to unroll my eyes from under my eyelids, look at Papa Amos and smile.  “Hey, Papa.”  I say, dryly.  I wish I could be THAT person, but when Papa looks up at me, kee-keeing and coo-cooing, I can’t help the smile.

“I hear he’s a looker.” Papa Amos laughs out.

I look over at Papa and shake my head.  “He’s an attractive young man, but I could care less as long as he works.”  I’m lying, of course, but that statement will be part of my daily affirmation until it manifests or until I can at least get through it without concentrating on whether the dimples in his cheeks are the only dimples he has.  “I don’t have time for you clucking hens.” I change the subject and walk out.

“I bet you have him filing everything in the bottom cabinets first!!” Mr. Howell yells out and he and Papa Amos join chorus in uncontrollable, hysterical laughter.

I walk down the hall to Keith’s office and as I approach the door, Keith says, “Oh, you finally have time for me?  I should have written all my stuff down.  Who knows when such an opportunity will come again.”

“What is that?” I ask back as I walk in and take a seat. “Punk-girl, Pink Sarcasm?  Doesn’t look good on you.  Doesn’t go with your eyes.  What’s up, Keith?”  Keith’s office is as retro metro as it comes.  I swear he has stock in IKEA.  If it isn’t red or yellow or a bright color, it has unusual shapes or rusty-rugged color.  Keith’s oversized, leather office-chair is 3x bigger than Keith.  He is literally swallowed up in leather chair-dimples and folds.  The chair immediately in front of you, when you walk into his office, isn’t the sitting chair.  It is the decoration.  The chair that sits mildly in the corner–looking like decoration is the meeting chair.  Nothing is as it seems in Keith’s office–befitting for such a man as Keith.

“Have you taken anything that I mentioned to you into consideration?” 

Daggoneit!  I knew there was something I was supposed to be thinking about.  Gotta play this off the best way I can. So, I say what is natural. “Keith, you have to start believing in your ideas.  You see how I am around here.  I have strategic planning with everything.  Sometimes, if you wait on me for the fulfillment of your own ideas, you will miss your window of opportunity.  No one will believe in you unless you give them something to believe in.”

“I know.  You’re right.” Keith says in a defeated voice. “I just really feel that if we expand our marketing by 10 miles each way, we will reach an untapped potential of clientele.”

WAIT-A-MINUTE!  I think to myself.  This escargot is sitting up here trying to ask me to back him up to get ME more work to do.  BayBEH!!  I didn’t accidentally tune out.  Subconsciously, I heard this bull-OWNY, and I immediately zoned out to my happy place to prevent going off on him.  So, I say the best get-me-out phrase “Okay.  I hear you, but you know I have to weigh all the pros and cons.  Let me think about it.”  I stand up and walk to the door.  As I walk out, I turn around and look at Keith’s poor look of defeat on his face.  I have GOT to work on a backbone when it comes to people.  “Keith.” I say reassuringly.  “I know you feel lost and alone sometimes.  If you have an idea, write it down.  Buy me dinner and let’s talk.  Now.  I’m not going to do your leg work for you, but you won’t walk alone.”

Keith looks up at me, mustering up a smile. “Thanks, Danni.”

I walk out Keith’s door, stop, close my eyes tight and begin to shake myself as fast as I can.  Once I feel the headache coming and my vertigo kick in, I stop shaking, open my eyes and squint-look to the right of me–DANG!

Still just one of me.  Gotta shake faster next time.