Tranny get your gun
No matter what your level of expertise in an organization, whenever a large responsibility is put on your plate, you have the chance to make a big mess or lick the plate clean.
I choose to put my tongue into practice.
After a few days of non-stop scheduling, the list of interviews has been set up. Things are settled. Everything is as close to perfect as possible. My manager is on site with the interviewee and there hasn't been a problem.
Then comes the phone call.
"Hi."
"How are the interviews going?"
"Well... The magazine interview was cancelled."
"What do you mean, cancelled? What happened?" Shit. Shit. Shit. What did I do?
"We arrived at their offices greeting us was the person doing the interview... A transsexual, standing in front of - the only way I can describe it as - a soft-core, life-size photo of herself."
Oh God.
"And that's not the worst of it. She, and I guess I'll call her a she, wanted a one-on-one interview with the interviewee and didn't want anyone in the room with them. She said it would compromise her journalistic integrity. Journalistic integrity? Can you believe that?"
"Uh. Hmmm."
"So we said the interview is off and we left."
"I'm sorry. I didn't know." I'm getting fired when she returns to the office.
"It wasn't your fault. But, I do want to warn you, if you get a call from these people, ranting and raving, just keep cool and tell them that's the way things are done."
"Thanks. But, I am sorry."
"Don't worry about it. We have to get to anther interview. See you at the office around 3 p.m."
The call ends and I begin to worry. I have failed. Not only do I worry about my supervisor being unimpressed with my scheduling and (apparently, non-existent) research skills, but also of a tranny on a potentially violent rampage.
Why do these embarrassing things happen to me? And why can't they be normal, embarrassing things, like ripping my pants before a meeting, or stepping in a fresh pile of dog shit?
Why should I be the only person to have an integrity-deprived, tranny journalist after them?
I choose to put my tongue into practice.
After a few days of non-stop scheduling, the list of interviews has been set up. Things are settled. Everything is as close to perfect as possible. My manager is on site with the interviewee and there hasn't been a problem.
Then comes the phone call.
"Hi."
"How are the interviews going?"
"Well... The magazine interview was cancelled."
"What do you mean, cancelled? What happened?" Shit. Shit. Shit. What did I do?
"We arrived at their offices greeting us was the person doing the interview... A transsexual, standing in front of - the only way I can describe it as - a soft-core, life-size photo of herself."
Oh God.
"And that's not the worst of it. She, and I guess I'll call her a she, wanted a one-on-one interview with the interviewee and didn't want anyone in the room with them. She said it would compromise her journalistic integrity. Journalistic integrity? Can you believe that?"
"Uh. Hmmm."
"So we said the interview is off and we left."
"I'm sorry. I didn't know." I'm getting fired when she returns to the office.
"It wasn't your fault. But, I do want to warn you, if you get a call from these people, ranting and raving, just keep cool and tell them that's the way things are done."
"Thanks. But, I am sorry."
"Don't worry about it. We have to get to anther interview. See you at the office around 3 p.m."
The call ends and I begin to worry. I have failed. Not only do I worry about my supervisor being unimpressed with my scheduling and (apparently, non-existent) research skills, but also of a tranny on a potentially violent rampage.
Why do these embarrassing things happen to me? And why can't they be normal, embarrassing things, like ripping my pants before a meeting, or stepping in a fresh pile of dog shit?
Why should I be the only person to have an integrity-deprived, tranny journalist after them?
Authored by S at 12:00 am
2 Comments:
It sounds like it sucks, but not knowing what you do ... I'm really confused by this whole entry.
Isn't life just the most inventive little machine you've ever witnessed work? I mean really! Put into the box a man, a vagina, an attitude, a cardboard cut-out of your choice and a meeting. Shake it all up and you get a tranny with a tude, getting all up in your face. OMG In with anger out with love darling. This too shall pass.
kb
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