Whiskey 'n Soda

It is 6:15pm and I'm at my hotel desk waiting for emails to come in. I check my phone and  notice a text message from my boss. 

"Please come see me at 7pm. Fred called today. Thanks."

This can't be! My boss never meets at an exact hour for anything. If I go, I'm pretty sure we'll waste time talking about nonsense. Well, I guess I have to go. Fuck. On the bright side, I could grab some dinner and head over after I'm done.

I close my laptop and notebook and place both in my bag. I stand and head to the bathroom and quickly wash my face. The towel is very soft and I take care to dry my face very well. I turn off the lights and head out the door to the elevator. When I approach the elevator doors I press the call button and hear the elevator ding. The doors lurch open as I step inside, pressing the lobby button.

After what seems like forever, I finally reach the lobby and beeline for the bar. I order a J&B and soda with a steak special. The barman hands me the drink and I eagerly take my first sip. I think to myself that I am excited for this meal and this J&B tastes amazing. I watch some football on the widescreen TV above as time slowly ticks away...

--- --- --- 

The football game is now almost over and I find myself into my fourth whiskey and soda. Did I get my food? I must have eaten, but I don't remember. The barman probably took the dishes, right?

My pocket begins to vibrate and I jump off the bar seat to answer the call. The caller ID says it's my boss. I pickup. "Hey, how's it going?", I mildly slur.

"What are you doing, where are you? You were supposed to be working with me on that call I mentioned earlier."

"I didn't know that was important now *hic*...I mean, uh...of course it's important but you said you need time to figure *hic* it out." 

"I want to see you now because you have already wasted a great deal of my time." 

Click.

The line dies, my boss just hung up on me. My boss expects me to go and I'm shit-faced. My gaze suddenly focuses on the half full scotch and soda in front of me on the oak bar. It penetrates my brain as a droplet slides down it's face. So delicious. I glance up at the TV and wouldn't you know it, it's 11:00pm. My boss expects me to go up there, now? Hours later? Fuck.

I quickly chug the remainder of my drink and stumble off the stool. I throw down what I'm sure is too much cash and grab my bag off the floor. Heading toward the elevator, the lobby tilts to the right as I adjust left. The whole place is spinning like a carnival ride from hell and I'm barely holding on to my puke.

I exit the elevator and suddenly realize I'm on the ninth floor. I must have blacked out between the bar and just now. I confirm with signage; yep, ninth floor. I was just in the lobby and now I'm on the ninth floor. I can only imagine this is going to be good.

I find room 905 and pound four times then press my ear to hear if my boss isn't in there. Please don't be in there! Suddenly, I hear some banging movement and my heart drops. A click as the door opens--

"Where have you been? It's really late now and I'm not happy. Don't even come in, just get the hell out of here. GET OUT! I don't want you near my door. I'll make sure that your ass is grass in the morning, I'll bring in a new assistant to handle this stuff that is so, so simple. "

"Well, I dunno if you know this, but...I think you didn't uphold your end. You told me to come at 7, and a guy's gotta eat right? I mean...come on now, you know I'm better than thaaat...I'll deal with it in the morning."





I secure my bag to my shoulder and try to stand straight. I turn away from my boss and head towards the elevator but I pause. I glance backwards momentarily--

"Another assistant?"

The next day I was sent home. That was the last day I traveled with my boss on business trips.

Worst Assistant Ever

I awake to an alarm buzzing with ferocious intensity. My head pounds harder and harder. I look over at the bed stand and can barely read the clock, 1:03am. It's late, or early...whatever.

I crawl up to a sitting position and yawn as I glance down around at my bare hotel room. I bring up my phone and check for any messages; there are 2 from my boss. I open my voicemail and listen to the first:

"Hey so uh, it's pretty late now and I don't think that this is fair for me, you know? I think it's total bullshit that we have to stay here in this hotel and, and, and, WAIT...for this stupid thing to happen. They should have had the set ready hours ago for me, you know? What are you going to do about this? I suggest you call them and tell them that I am not happy at all with this situation. Call me."


I immediately press 7 and delete it into oblivion. I scroll to message two but hesitate; it's 10 minutes after the first. I slowly press play:


"Hey! What the fuck? Why haven't you picked up your phone? Do you realize who is calling you? For fucksake, pick up the god forsaken phone or I'll beat your balls into oblivion you miserable piece of shit. You're the worst assistant ever. I can't believe that you're sleeping or whatever it is you are doing but I'm not leaving my hotel room until you come here or call me back. It's very late and I'm tired."



I sigh heavily and notice it's 1:11am. I throw my phone across the room. I grab a half empty warm beer from the night stand and chug it's remains, the only way to get a night like this started. Or morning, whatever.

Beginning of a Bad Day

I sit at my desk enjoying a morning coffee when my boss storms in the door and yells at me--

"Why won't my iPad print to my printer at my house??"

Before I can speak he yells--

"My life achievements are way more important than you wasting time on stupid things that an assistant should have figured out a long time ago." 


My boss points to trophies and awards on the wall and continues to yell--

"You are turning today into a bad day! Arrrgh!"

Still fuming, he storms to his office and closes the door.





I sit in stunned silence as I continue to hear the ramblings of my insane boss. The office phone line begins to ring as I sit deep in thought. My boss is an idiot. He wants to print from a first generation iPad which lacks that capability. I glance up at the clock on the wall, it's face reads 10:12am. It's going to be a long day.