My personal assistant Daphne is the surliest young woman I’ve ever met. She’s brash, hard-headed and rude. Nonetheless, she gets me what I want, when I want it. Therefore, I’m grateful of her service, even if it comes hand-in-hand with “yeah, whatever, stupid sissy.”Hooray for National Secretary's Day! I so love a made up holiday, none more so than National Secretary's Day.
This holiday, started in 1952. is an opportunity for a boss to impress his help with gift certificates to Applebee’s or wilted bouquets of perfumed petunias or imported truffles. However, as advised by my deceased secretary, Annabelle, chocolates are never a welcomed gift, not so much due to the calories, but because of the unspoken assumption that the recipient must share her coveted chocolates with the other secretaries; the pitied ones with stingy bosses who weren’t so lucky and received nothing.
Therefore in selecting a suitable gift for my petulant assistant I immediately ruled out all edibles, say a giant, frosted cookie or a platter of hot wings with celery. I considered a gift card; perhaps an iTunes prepaid card or a gift certificate for an electronics store? Unfortunately, Daphne’s barbaric bluster stomps well into her use of modern day wireless devices. She often strikes me as a Luddite in the way she mangles the Blackberry I bought her. She has no computer skills, therefore a gift of such technology seemed an ill decision.
Perhaps jewelry? No. This too would be a bad choice for crude Daphne. I don’t even believe the girl has pierced ears (much less anything else). The only sparkle ever to grace her scowl was on the High Holy Day of the Feynastra del Cuombo (it’s a fairy thing). I traipsed into my PR firm and blessed Daphne with a fist full of silver glitter. Little did I know Daphne has a rare mental illness in which she scratches herself violently should things touch her skin! I tried to wash her down with my Fresca to no avail. Daphne refused to get my dry cleaning for an entire week. Nor did she appreciate (completely with good intentions) my mummy jokes.
Q: How do you know King Tut is afraid?With gemstones and food marked off my list, I was at a loss considering what a modern-day city gal would want for National Secretary’s Day. That is until I watched the Style Network and it occurred to me. I would buy her a makeover at one of New York’s finest salons!
A: He cries for his mummy!
I asked Daphne to compile a list of New York’s finest salons. I stressed New York’s finest salons when I asked her. I also winked at her. I think she knew what I was up to because she rolled her eyes and replied, “ugh.”
I visited several Salons yesterday. I’ve never felt so buffed and scrubbed. After six hours of commuting from pedicure to facial to aura cleansing, I decided that the Pilo Arts Day Spa and Salon (in Brooklyn) was the nicest choice for my quirky secretary. And so I bought a full day’s treatment for her and presented it this morning. And can you believe her response?
Daphne yelled at me, “Administrative Professional’s Day was yesterday you ninny!” I was aghast! I looked down the line of secretary's desks and sure enough, all of them were covered with flowers and jewelry and hot wings, and there on Daphne’s desk was an assortment of scavenged sweets and a plucked rose from a generous colleague's radiant bouquet.
I felt absolutely terrible. I immediately gave Daphne the day off to enjoy her spa treatment, after asking her to pick up a few groceries for my dinner this evening.
2 comments:
I guess having an affair with her would not be a good idea. We tried to take our secretary out to lunch yesterday. She told us that she was busy interviewing for a new job.
Ah, some people just don't know when they have it good! I mean, none of the secretaries I know work for people likely to buy them a Blackberry.
Post a Comment