Douche of Last Week

Subtitled: "How to Win Friends, Influence People, and Kick a Temp in the Teeth"

Our biggest client came in for a meeting last week. He is quite fond of himself and thinks himself to be quite an unusually attractive man (not), an accomplished man (depends on your definition of accomplished), and a powerful presence (depends on your definition of powerful). I'd say most people would describe him as an "egomaniac", "difficult" and "stinking rich." At any rate, even though we've been introduced, there's no reason for this guy (I'll call him El Diablo) to know that I exist, other than that I work for the boss as his assistant. He probably knows me as "the chick that sits outside the conference room." And that's if he looks twice.

After the meeting, those involved congregated around my desk. Involuntarily, of course, as my desk sits right next to the conference room. They were discussing our company's holiday luncheon, something I had sent invitations via email to these particular folks a week and a half prior.

"What party?" said El Diablo. "I didn't get an invitation to a party."

"Our annual luncheon," I heard my boss say, reassuring him. "Invites went out last week."

"I didn't get an invite."

"I didn't either," said his colleague.

"Nope," continued El Diablo, "No invite."

"It was an email," said my boss.

El Diablo fumbled with his Blackberry. "I didn't get an email. Nope."

My boss leaned into me, "Anne, you sent out the invitation, right?"

"Yep, they went out Wednesday of last week."

"Nope. I didn't get an email," insisted El Diablo.

Incredulous, I asked, "Really? Because your assistant called me on Monday to RSVP for you...so...unless she has ESP, I..."

"THE ONLY REASON YOU HAVE THIS JOB IS BECAUSE I GIVE YOU BUSINESS!" said El Diablo.

(beat)

"No," I countered, "the only reason I have this job is because I'm a Red Sox fan." (true)