Post Proctor Hoc

One of the great joys of employment is your boss. In a cruel twist of fate, my current, immediate superior is a 19 year old college student. And she’ll be damned if some uppity, college grad doesn’t do as he’s told.

Cruel Taskmaster: Did you put up those two stacks of cups.
Working Boy: Yes.
C.T: Oh dang, never, never put up two stacks of cups. It’s looks sloppy.
W.B: Really? I thought it looked like two stacks of cups instead of one.
C.T: Here take this stack and put it back.
W.B: Right away.
C.T: Do you know where it goes.
W.B: Yes.
C.T: Are you sure? Because yesterday there were some cups that weren’t put back right.
W.B: What was wrong with them?
C.T: They were just wrong. Did you do that?
W.B: Probably.
C.T: Don't never do it wrong. Here follow me and I’ll show you how to put them away.
W.B: Is this really necessary? I-
C.T: Also, the oatmeal this morning looked pasty.
W.B: Blast those infernal cooks!
C.T: No you stirred it too much that’s why it was pasty. Here, see how I'm stirring it right now. That's the good way. Now you try.
W.B: How's this?
C.T: Pretty good. You're a natural oatmeal stirrer.
W.B: Sweet.
C.T: But seriously, never stir the oatmeal too much or else people won’t buy it.
W.B: Why do you care if people buy the oatmeal?
C.T: Because otherwise we have to throw it away.
W.B: Well, ‘we’ might have to throw it away but it doesn’t really affect us. Let the big boss worr about cost overrun. Am I right?
C.T: Oh no. We’re a team.
W.B: Incorrect.
C.T: You should want to do a good job.
W.B: I don’t get paid enough to do a good job.
C.T: Why are you here then?
W.B: It was kind of an accident really, an accident born of the Devil’s mistress herself. I think she's out to get me. But not in a sexy evil-hot way, but in a stab me in the back while I mopping up yogurt way.
C.T: That reminds me. Did you mop up that yogurt yet?
W.B: It's next on the list.
C.T: Well after that don’t forget to refill the packages of sugar. Or else they will run out of sugar.
W.B: Fuck their sugar!
C.T: But they complain if they run out of sugar.
W.B: So they complain. I complain all the time; it’s natural, like the fates conspiring against me and mine.
C.T: Well, anyway you can take lunch if you want, but eat standing up behind the line in case someone wants to buy food from us.
W.B: I never eat standing up; it’s ungentlemanly. The only exception is I eat standing up in my apartment because I had to sell my furniture to pay the electric bill. I used to be somebody in case you haven’t heard.
C.T: You should work more than 4 hours a day if you can’t afford electricity.
W.B: No way, man. I don’t do that kind of stuff anymore.
C.T: Are those the same pants you’ve been wearing all week?
W.B: How can you tell?
C.T: Because of the coffee stain that’s been there all week. Did someone spill coffee on you?
W.B: I spilled coffee on myself. At the godforsaken hour of 6 in the morning.
C.T: I get here at 5:30.
W.B: Well, you should quit then because that's many kinds of bullshit.
C.T: Why so you can take my job? I worked hard to get where I am and I'm proud of an honest day's work.
W.B: Charming.
C.T: Wait, when did you have coffee?! Did you pay for it?! You can’t be taking coffee without paying for it. Also, you shouldn’t have time to be drink coffee. There’s too much to do.

W.B: I resent your tone and acute perceptions!