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Blogger Profile: The name's Northe.
Been blogging since: September 2004.
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Home Angry Time Stories Female Boss Shorts 8
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Written by Northe   
Monday, 29 October 2007 00:00

First time? Start here. Read "The Primer" and follow the link at the end. Chronological order makes more sense for the stories. While you're at it, go ahead and Register, approval grants access to exclusive content.

After taking my summer break from Angry Time and starting to write up this duo of tales, I had forgotten that I created a series of Female Boss Shorts.. then to find out that I am now on #8 for this series I am at the crossroads of whether or not that the number is becoming impressive or if I am way behind on schedule.  This pair of stories are just as good as any.  They continue to document that stupidity knows no bounds.  Have at 'em.

Scenario #1: Female Boss is doing her best to fumble around on the internets.  She comes across some website that sells shoes.  I keep hearing her comment, "Oh that's cute.  That one's cute.  Oh wow, I love those."

The high pitched impressed tone she emits is starting to wear down my ability to ignore her for extended periods of time.. that and the fact that I really can't stand it when people talk out loud about shit that you can't see or don't care to see.  Figuring I'd rather just get it over with now I ask, "What is it?"

"Oh!  These shoes!  They are SO CUTE," squeals Female Boss.

"You gonna buy em?"

"Absolutely, I just don't know how many pairs."

You frikkin women.. how many god damn pairs of feet do you have?  "Sounds good," I say.

A couple quiet minutes later, disappointment has taken over Female Boss' annoyingly pleased mood.  "Aww, Northe.  These are baby shoes!"

I didn't even know what to say to that.  Instead of having to come up with a stealthily demeaning, yet witty, comment, Female Boss takes it all one further.

"Well wait hold on a sec, let me check the sizes.  Oh!  Great.  These are size 8B.  I am size 8!  I'm gonna order a pair and hope they fit."

Baby sized shoes.  Its gotta be the same thing.  I mean that "B" after the number couldn't possibly be some sort of sizing method especially for BABY.  No way.  Hey, look at the bright side, Female Boss scored some new shoes.... sigh..

Scenario #2:  Female Boss has been having problems with the gardener she hired to tend to this investment property lately.  Nothing new really.  She is always dissatisfied about something the poor old guy is doing.  There's really not much that has to be done to such a small property but rather than communicate what she wants done she tends to just air it out to me in hopes that the gardener will pick up her vibes thru ESP.  Female Boss almost never tells the gardener what specifically she wants or what is bothering her about the job he does; therefore, nothing ever goes the way she wants leaving us with a perpetual complaint machine.

A few weeks back, the gardener starting bringing along his younger brother.. and by younger I mean about 45.  I have spoken to these guys on occasion if I come to the house when they are outside and just say whats up.  They speak Spanish and a good amount of English, too.

This is relevant bcuz Female Boss started on a rant the other day, "That stupid brother of his.  I know he speaks English!  I have seen him speak it to his brother!  Then when I talk to him he stares at me like he has no clue what I am saying!"

Female Boss is pretty pissed so I laugh a bit to keep her going.  She does.

"I mean come on.. these guys know English!  They aren't even Mexican!"

This takes me by surprise bcuz I am pretty sure they are.  You also have to understand that "Mexican" doesn't necessarily mean from Mexico out here.  Just means they are likely from Central America, only in gardening terms do you hear the word Mexican tossed around rather than some other PC way to describe hispanic or what have you.

I question Female Boss, "Are you sure they aren't Mexican?"

"No!  They're not Mexican.  They're Jewish!"

I wanted to ask her what country that made them from but decided, instead, to say a prayer for the brain cells I lost in that skirmish and call it a day.

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