The Toad has No Regard
Lest you all fear that my office had suddenly turned pleasant and tolerable, let me assure you that the Toad is still an insufferable idiot, our clients remain a hive of smarmy pervs, and my co-workers are as committed as ever to regaling me with information about things like bus schedules and the merits of various types of paper stock. I've just been really, really busy....
I'm going to seriously need therapy after yesterday. First, I was scanning the Toad's inbox and the only emails that he opened all weekend were a couple of spams: one that supposedly contained a naked picture of Britney Spears, and another involving wang enhancement that was embellished with a picture of some girl looking all pleasantly surprised at the giant black cock that was about to smack her in the face. Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, the Toad came over to give me a bunch of projects to work on, and I couldn't focus at all on what he was saying, because he was standing in front of my desk the whole time with his hand in his pocket, vigorously scratching his balls. What made it even worse was the fact that he seemed to think that he was being subtle, even though he was scratching so hard that his entire body was jerking around.
The Toad is walking around with a huge glob of snot hovering just below his right nostril. He just left to go to lunch (obviously with someone important, since he only read the paper in the men's room until he was five minutes late), and I unfortunately was too busy to tell him. I feel really, really bad for whoever gets to eat across from him today.
This morning, the Toad had a breakfast meeting at a very nice restaurant with an important new client. The VP got sent along to babysit him, but no mere mortal can stop the Toad when he is on a mission to make an ass of himself. When they got back to the office, I asked how the meeting went, and the Toad replied that it was terrific, and qualified this statement with a long description of all the things that he had ordered on the client's tab. This, of course, was not really what I had intended to ask about, but before I could redirect the subject to the $500K contract that he was supposed to have been negotiating, he exclaimed 'look at this!' and pulled two wadded-up restaurant napkins out of his bag. While I was still trying to figure out what the appropriate reaction to my boss displaying pilfered dining room linens might be, the napkins both unraveled at once, spilling a massive shower of crumbled up coffee cake across the floor of his office. As luck would have it, he managed to salvage a fistful of pastry in his hairy paw, and he very graciously offered to share it with me, but I declined. Diet.
Lately the Toad has become obsessed with the idea of having a vanity-piece written about himself, and has been desperately trying to get the attention of various journalists in hopes of making it happen. Today he took a couple of local writers to lunch and he was totally bugging me before he left, but then when he got back he just kind of scuttled into his office and closed the door. I thought it was weird, but it's not like I was going to go in after him or anything. About a half-hour later I got a call from his dentist's office wanting to know when he was coming in. I told them that he didn't have an appointment and the receptionist told me that he had called that afternoon to make an emergency appointment because his false teeth fell out at lunch!!!! I'm just going to repeat that because it makes me so happy: The Toad's false teeth FELL OUT at lunch in front of two journalists, not to mention several dozen of the old boys who hang out at the schmoozy lunch spot where he had taken the two journalists in hopes of appearing important. That makes me happier than rainbows and kittens and maybe even than a rainbow made entirely of kittens.