peeve: inquisitions

Work utterly exhausts me. My boss, Flo, and my underling, Annie, are the exact same kind of person, in crazy-making stereo. It's best demonstrated.

Flo: So did you have a good night?

Me: Meh.

Flo: Come on, what did you do?

Me: I can't remember.

Flo: Jesus Christ. What did you do?

Me (resigned): I watched TV.

Flo: What did you watch? Who's in that? Did you like it? What are your favorite shows? What shows do you hate? What shows does Percy like and who's in that? How is Percy? What model car does he drive? What year is it? 4 cylinder or 6 cylinder? Why doesn't he have a hybrid? Does he hate the earth? How did he vote in every election since Eisenhower's first term?

Thusly warmed up, she'll then draw a breath and really get to the meat of her questions.

With Annie, you would think that the employment club I hold would give me some leverage. You would be wrong.

Me: I'm forwarding you this job inquiry. Let me know if you're interested in the gig. I DO NOT KNOW ANY MORE THAN THIS MAIL CONTAINS. It represents the sum of my knowledge about, and interest in, this topic. You now know everything I know. I swear, if you pepper me with questions, I will drive up to Bellingham and publicly smack the ever-loving shit out of you.

Annie: Cool! Okay! How much does it pay? Are they okay with part-time? What are the benefits? Is there free parking? Who founded the company? What color's his wife's hair? What's her sign?

Hitting the road. Later.