From hay to hair~ for only $110.
Remember the senior whom I mentioned in an entry somewhere?
Well, Mrs Milthorpe and I spent the last 3 weeks on the run, hiding out at every level of the office, from the general pantry to the dusty backroom of the filing dept. Mrs Milthorpe (God bless this good woman, she’s in Christchurch now) was constantly hounded by this senior and made to do ad hoc jobs.
Everything is ad hoc when this senior is concerned.
To make things worse, he had our mobile numbers, so just imagine the fright we get whenever one of our mobiles start to ring. And he calls EVERYDAY. Even when he fully well knows that we were assigned to other jobs.
Know how it feels like to be stalked? Mrs Milthorpe and I were ensconced on the 5th floor while that senior is bound to his desk in the ground level. We were doing our stuff when we heard :”Hey guys, I need you to help me with something.”
I can’t believe he came all the way up with reports in tow! Either he’s psychic or he searched every goddamn floor before finding us huddled in the top floor. Now I know how the Jews felt while hiding from the Gestapo.
His tenacity and thick skin amazes me. In another incident, while waiting for the lifts at the top floor, I detected a faint odor behind me. Mrs Milthorpe kept on talking to me and I soon realised why.
From the corner of my eye, I could see the senior waiting to strike.
The lift doors opened and the senior said “Chaarrge!”.
Yeah, go ahead, please.
Mrs Milthorpe and I turned to the other lift after seeing him squeeze himself snugly into the human mass. As we stepped into the lift, we heard him say “Excuse me!” as he left the lift he was in and bounded towards us.
“Fuck.”, Mrs Milthorpe muttered under her breath.
I was stunned. Not really by what the senior did, but hearing the F-word pass through Mrs Milthorpe’s lips. And she’s the one who’s been chastising me against using my favourite hokkien version of ‘cunt’. I thought I had heard the worst from her, from ‘idiot’ in day one and subsequently, it became ‘idiotic bastard’.
So there. From these small incidents, one can sort of understand why I had to do what I did this Monday.
This Monday, while sitting at the general pantry on the 2nd floor, the senior came to ask Mrs Milthorpe if she would help him out with an assignment which begins right after lunch(ad hoc as usual).
Naturally, Mrs Milthorpe can’t because she’s leaving the company on Wednesday so she could join her husband at Christchurch on Thursday.
So he turned to me and tried to sell me this “fun but complex” Franztel assignment.
I declined with very good reasons. Next week I will begin a long, hard engagement(jeez, sounds obscene) at an industrial area right next to the Johore Straits and there’s no way I can commit to this ad hoc assignment. Crestfallen, he thanked us and left.
Mrs Milthorpe and I decided to check out our schedules just 10 mins before lunch. I clicked on the button and I felt a pail of piss rain down on me.
I could taste piss in my mouth. And Mrs Milthorpe pointed out the senior assistant who just got assigned to Franztel was someone she had been complaining to about the senior.
I took leave for the rest of the day. Went to a salon nearby and rebonded my hair. I made a reservation for Mrs Milthorpe so she could have her hair rebonded in the evening after work. Last I heard, the senior assistant suddenly came down with high fever in the same afternoon and took medical leave on Tuesday.