"You know what's kinda cool?" I thought out loud after picking up the messages at work this morning. "Nowhere on our voice message does it actually say to leave a message."
"It doesn't?" [boss] asked.
"Nope. It says to visit the website for more information, tells them what our office hours are, gives the number for the attendance line..."
"Well then you need to change the machine so it does."
"Oh, that wasn't why I brought this up - I mean, the machine beeps, and people know that means they can leave messages - it just doesn't actually tell them to." Imagine how many more annoying voicemails we'd get if it encouraged people to leave them...
"Well, it's rude not to say it, so you need to change it."
"But it's been like that for the past year - I mean, even when Ryan was here, because I used his old message to record the new one."
"Two wrongs don't make a right, Elle."
"Okay, I have to change it next week anyway because we won't be selling tickets anymore, so when I do that, I'll put it on there. But I'm not doing it today."
She then called the office from her cell phone so she could listen to the message, and asked to talk to me in the back room.
"Now, Elle, last week, when you refused to call the newspaper to see about putting our ad in, I let it go..." she began.
I interrupted. "I would've been happy to call the paper, had there been a number that made sense for me to call."
"No, you didn't want to take the initiative - you could've called another number to get the number, spoken to someone's assistant... But you didn't want to be aggressive about it."
Oh, really? Have you made that call since dropping the subject a week ago?
Then she went on about how the machine currently says we'll be selling tickets through Friday, but that's not going to be the case because she actually has to take the tickets back to the box office tomorrow morning, so really today is the last day - but it's okay, because we can just tell people we sold out. "So you can change the message tonight," she concluded, almost happily.
I conceded, and we walked back into the office. A few minutes later, she was calling herself fat and offering me a cookie, as though the whole thing had never happened.
The problem is, most of the time, I really like my boss - as a person, I mean; she's a family friend. And I have a feeling if I have to work for her much longer, my indignance and her (for lack of a better alliteration) idiocy are going to ruin that friendship. So it's officially on my calendar: Wednesday, June 6: give notice.
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