The Daze of Our Lives!


We know where to find you, Bobby! You’re easy!

I just finished a huge video project I’ve been worried about for weeks and if I do say so myself, it’s a good piece of solid work. So now I won’t have to distract myself by posting every flash of synapse I experience. But… in my miserable state I have a talent for remembering every slight, every transgression and perceived injustice inflicted on me in my life. Call it a gift. For the transgressor, it’s a curse.

Always trust your first impressions. My street smarts have never, ever, failed me. 20 years ago I met a manager at a LAN team training class in Florida that set my hackles up as soon as he opened his mouth. I had such a visceral dislike for him even though we hadn’t yet spoken it confused and rattled me.
Sure enough, as time and years went on I proved myself right as usual. As fate would have it, I kept ending up on committees with him and I hated every second of it. I couldn’t believe this idiot would survive the decade and he didn’t.

He ended up as a trainer at one of our distributors and I thought that was the end of him. It was not to be. He popped up more than a year ago, out of work and asked if I could please call him. He needed a job and sounded desperate. I called. He picked up on the second ring and said he would call back immediately. Never happened. You want to roll over some night and find me staring at you? Fuck with me like that.

Eight months ago, my wife picks up my business line and says “It’s Chip!” Because that’s his name. He apologized for not calling me back and says he was looking to acquire my services. It’s for a National Sales Meeting for his new company which rhymes with “henpeck.”

I give him the lowdown on cost, travel and post production. He says, “sounds great, I’ll check with Bob P. and call you right back. You’ll never guess.

A couple of months later he gives my wife the “Chip slip” and gets through to me. Now, I am not your garden variety business man and can be capable of great violence given the right circumstances. Luckily, he was calling from “henpeck” in Pa. and I didn’t have to menace his fat, flabby ass. How these people survive is beyond me.

This time he needed sales training videos. There is no way. It’s just not gonna happen. I hate this piece of shit now. Here’s his deal and he prefaced it with “this might make you shudder.” He wanted me to show him how to shoot, edit, produce and deliver high quality video for Henpeck Health either over the phone or maybe with one site visit.  Sigh. Why go on with this story? It only gets worse. The only satisfaction I get is writing it out as some type of Zuckerberg Therapy. It does feed my evil side though. And he’s starving.

I just burned 500 more business cards so I’m at least doing SOMETHING to help myself.

But alas, Irish Alzheimer’s (where you only remember the grudge) will strike again and I will be ferreting out some dunderhead who made my life miserable.

If I thought you disliked me and were doing it to make my life miserable on purpose, I could understand. I am no day at the beach. Under Marquess of Queensberry Rules, you have a right to take your shot.

Some time in the near future, I will expose the biggest, most mindless, brainless fraud that medical imaging has ever produced and that I have ever crossed paths with. This dingbat has blown a hole in the glass ceiling bigger than the ozone layer. Back when we had a female president, the motto was: If you had a pair, you went nowhere. I still have her on tape trying to push my buttons. Sexually. If a man did what she did she’d be asking. “you want fries with that?”

But I digress, back to my dimwitted tormentor.

If this moron was hired by Hoover she would be president by now. Back in the Dupont days, there were probably only ten people in the executive building. So after a liquid lunch they all came back, had a meeting and made up new titles for each other. Most of us in the field couldn’t keep up. Miss Bouncy Boobs could though.

This one happened to be friends with someone who could pull a few strings for her. Actually, it was more like rope. Even though she couldn’t out think a cantaloupe, she always got the gig. That was then, I was very lucky too. I went from the radiopharm dock to a comfy living in Scottsdale as a sales rep. Living the good life. Truthfully, you could have replaced me with a crash test dummy and no one would have noticed. I did perfect my stand up, though.

What sticks in my craw is what happened after she left the company. She drew me into a horribly awkward shit storm and left me hanging. Actually swinging. It was like a set up. It was bewildering. A female Chip-dip. She never looked back at the carnage.

I still have footage of her trying to answer simple questions about a cancer product her buddy let her manage. We were filming in a hotel room in Vegas with some reps and it was excruciating when asked a question and her buddy had to answer. She should have asked for an attorney. She won’t be able to blow her way out of this one.

I’m too much of a gentleman (choke!) to mention her name but it rhymes with Doreen and she is always vice president of something. And why don’t I move on you ask? Because I love writing, paying off old debts and.. because I can. Simple as that.

Until then, stay tense.

Please note: I welcome comments that are offensive, illogical or off-topic from readers in all states of consciousness.

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