You have my undivided attention, now

What did you say?

I am sorry I couldn't hear you through your toupee. The bleach blond that you clearly are not has made you look sick. Orange? Really? are you making a career transition from the Wonka Chocolate Factory to an office job? Stop. The. Madness.

Why do men do that? I mean seriously. Your hair is brown, the dead beaver on your head is red. It doesn't match. Take it off. What's wrong with a bald head. Bald heads are in style they are rather sexy. I mean hello? Bruce Willis? Hot! Michael Jordan? Hot! Britney Spears? She has a weave now and doesn't count. She is a girl. Sean Connery? HOT! You, with the dead mink on your head? No, not hot. Get rid of the dead animal on your head and trust me. The girls? They'll come a running!

Oh women, you are NOT excused at all. Not everyone has to be a bleached burned out blond with a bad tan. Brunettes are attractive. Umm, Demi Moore? Megan Fox? Angelina Jolie? Dude they are brunettes and they are pretty. Back away from the peroxide, PLEASE. Allow your hair to be it's natural color and become the mysterious dark brunette. I won't go there with bad wigs and weaves. And, ye, I have liscense to talk.

This receptionist has seen it al land sometimes it hard to ignore. HARD, I tell you. Especially if you are so much better and prettier than that. STOP THE MADNESS. Yes, we do talk about you and so does everyone else. What has been seen cannot be UNSEEN!

You are orange not tan. Subtly is the name of the game. There is nothing wrong with a little glow, but you look like you have been rolling around in georgia red clay. That is NOT a tan, it's a bad day at a mud bath.

Just thought you should know.

I'm Back!

Yes, I have been gone for over a month but even this low level bottom b*tch gets to take a break every once in a while. Anyway! What going on out there? Write to me?

As for me, I want to talk about...co-workers.

I was recently reflecting on good ones.

I was recently thinking about my best friend who we will call Jane. I worked for/with her mother , we will call her Windy. They will hate me for giving them these names.

When Jane and I met we HATED each other each one calling thing the other was a straight up B-I -T-Hey you know what I mean. Then one day her Jane's mom, Windy, arranged for us to go to a local art event. I was surprised because her mother use to threaten to drop kick me out the highest window when ever I f-c--d up. That being the first adult job I ever had I was dropped from the 7 story window alot. Somehow though we forged a friendship and we have been friends for too long for me to say because OB NEVER mentions time, events or her age. Windy became like my mother and Jane my sister. Who knew that a person that I would meet in cold wintry November would be come such a welcome and wonderful part of my life.

Then years later while I was making a major life transition, I started working with my friend Charlotte (again not her real name). She would send kind notes of encouragement reminding me not to give up and always to ask (pray) & work for my dreams or something better. In other words, she taught me to strive for my dreams but never to limit myself to my dreams because something better just might be around the corner. When life got rough because I took on too much she offered sage advice and went to bat for me behind the scenes until I could stand on my own. We are needless to say still friends today.

There is at least one person from every job I have held since early adulthood who has influenced and remained a part of my life. These people have stuck with me through the crazy and crazier. When the man was making me take it, though they couldn't prevent the violation the at least lent me lube (life lessons) that I think over time have paid off I think. And so today I would just like to take the time to say thank you!

Love,
OB

Your Receptionist

So what, exactly, does a receptionist do? She just answers phones, right? Well, right, kind of. Over the next few entries, I will try and explain. Those current and former receptionists, please feel free to chime in.

Of course you have that stereotypical receptionist who chews gum, rolls he eyes at every question and speaking in the most annoying local accent. The one with the low IQ but large boobs and bleached out hair.

In actuality, the job is a little harder than it appears. It requires patience, a sense of humour, a thick skin, and more than a reasonable amount of cleverness.

First thing you should know is this: You never know what you are going to get when you pick up the phone. As I have mentioned, it always easy for people to pick up that phone and just dial "zero" and we, as receptionists, are suppose to be God and know all the answers, right away and make things happen in an instant. We are suppose to know where Mr. So and so disappeared to even though his office is 10 floors away from yours, did we receive a call from Mr. Smith even though you may handle hundreds of call a day. Honestly, there is no way you are going to remember one call unless you were talking to, oh I don't know, Brad Pitt or the President of the United States.

Here are two of my favorite types callers:

The Nagging Wife

Me: Good Afternoon, Dewie Cheatam & Howe (Fictitious name, OBVIOUSLY)

Nagging Wife (NW): Have you seen my husband?

Me: I am sorry, who is your Husband, ma'am?

NW: With extreme attitude as I am suppose to know): It's Mr. So AND So

Me: No, Ma'am unfortunately we are not on the same floor.

NW: Well can you go find him? It's really important I reach him before leaves.

Me(This is what I really want to say): I am sorry, let me get this straight, you want me to stop answering the phones of a very large business to go running around after your husband putting my job in danger just so you can remind him to bring home some dry cleaning? I don't think so.

But instead, I look for lube, as usual there is none, and I actually say: I'll see what I can do.

I hang up the phone: le sigh.

The Telemarketer:

*I actually like these calls because I can work out some aggression on them.*

Me: Acme Capital LLC (Fake as well. People, please, you soooo aren't finding out where I work)

Telemarketer: Can I have your IT dept?

Me: Do you have a contact name?

Telemarketer: No, I just need your IT dept

Me: Sorry, if you don't have a contact name, I can't help you

Telemarketer: Look, give me your IT dept.

Me (oh yeah, I am enjoying this and you'd better believe my voice is as sweet as sugar): Sorry, give me a contact name and I'll happily transfer you . Otherwise, I am so sorry, I can't help you.

Telemarketer: You are just the receptionist! Who are you not to transfer me?

Me: I'm sorry for your frustration, Sir. Unfortunately, if you cannot give me a name I cannot transfer you.

Telemarketer: Ok, Give me HR, then.

Me: Do you have a contact name?"

Telemarketer: I am going to report you. What is your name?

Me: Jane Doe. First name J-A-N-E Last D-O-E
*you didn't really think I'd give you my real name did you?*

Telemarketer: F*ck you, bitch!

(telemarketer hangs ups)

VICTORY!!!!! I WIN! YOU LOSE!

ME: EPIC WIN! You: FAIL!

And that, my loyal fans, is only part of my day. More tales of exactly what a receptionist does in a few days!



BTW I got a question from someone who may or may not know me personally wanting to know if any of this is related to my current job. Not really, most of what I write about in this blog is about a combination of my whole experience as a receptionist.

Ya, Ya I know

I am SUCH a whore. Most of you already know that. I have been selling myself to the Man for the last few weekends and getting OT hours for it. I don't know why I do it. When the Man isn't taking it from behind without lube Uncle Sam is. Apparently, I am a cheap date.

Overtime is like when you hook up with that hot guy you've been dating for a while (the extra money from OT) and the foreplay (the days between when you work the OT and the OT payday) and then you discover that what you thought would be quite large is surprisingly minute (the paycheck and the penis) and in the end gives frustration and little satisfaction because but you take it anyway (the man with the little peen and the paycheck). Payroll taxes like hot guys with small peens make my life full of disappointments. Le sigh.

Tomorrow, I am going to answer a question I received a week ago. The question is: What exactly is a Receptionist? And what does she do besides answer phones and look pretty?"

This question irritates me but it gets asked quite a bit so, I will answer it at length tomorow. Short answer: It depends, but she does do lots o'work.

Pimpin IS easy, actually.

Dear Office Bitch sans Lube,
I missed you and I am so glad you are back.
After a night of drunken tomfoolery on a work night I found myself in the bed of some I knew...well, only causally until ...uh...well, you know what I am saying. Suddenly, it was 6:45am the next morning and I am still in my work clothes from the night before and I didn't have time to go across town for another change of clothes. Well, I went to work in the same clothes I'd worn the day before. It was obvious to everyone that I did not make it home. Nothing is more humiliating then doing the walk of shame through your office.
Anyway, I work hard at doing my job and feel I should be able to play as hard as I like. In the event that it may happen again. What can I do to avoid that dark and shady walk on a Wednesday morning?
And DON'T take forever in answering please.
Pimpstress in Heels!


Dear Miss Pimpstress,

Unfortunately, though very rare I'm sure, the occasional walk-of-shame to work can happen. Other than strongly recommending keeping your partying to Friday and Saturday, like most grown ups, I will provide an answer to your query.

The answer to your question is quite easy. This also a lesson for those who maybe have pulled an all nighter at work and also for ladies who may for girly reasons need to freshen. Regardless if You Are As Easy As Sunday Morning, you should always have the following either in your purse or if your purse is too small, in your desk drawer, this applies to you too, guys:

1: A change of blouse and underwear. (I need to follow this rule myself.)
2. A small bottle of Listerine (works best after a night of alchie), toothpaste, toothbrush, and dental floss - travel size
3. Personal flushable wipes and other lady needs - travel size
4. Deodorant - travel size

5. (optional)If you have a run-of-the-mill suit chances are the only thing people are going to notice is that you wore the same blouse. If you are a fasionista, you may want to simply keep an extra outfit or maybe a fashionable scarf to dress it up and make it different from the night before.

Honestly, no one really cares because luckily in our narcissistic world the only people likely to notice that you are wearing the same outfit from the night before are the people paid to care about you, the receptionist and your secretary. Both of them have handled your phone calls and already know you'se a ho and are talking about you anyway to each other.



You're welcome,

OB


P.S. Yes, I am working on Memorial Day and No, I am not drinking Grey Goose and Cran.





If you have a question for OB please email her at yourofficebtch@aol.com

UGH!

I don't know about the rest of y'all but I HATE this time of year.  The weather is beautiful and being a receptionist naturally I get the best view of it. God D*mn it. This sucks. I want to go outside and answer the phones from the grass of the park that's not far away. 

While most people get to go home early on the Friday before the Memorial Day Holiday, it is rare that the receptionist gets to go with them. Some offices from Memorial Day until Labor day actually let people go home early every friday, but again, we are not included in that population. WE are the last people to shut off the lights at night and we almost keep up the appearance that the man is not a slacker by keeping his receptionist answering the phones as if everyone is still in the office when in actuality they left four hours ago. And so it is only me, alone, answering the phone and saying that everyone is in a meeting. You can hear my voice echo throughout the office. When this happens, and it often does, I have thought to dance around in my undies before the security camera and see what happens when I arrive on Monday.Le sigh.

Yeah, yeah, I'll answer the office slut's letter in  a few days. Right now, I just want some grey goose and cranberry juice after everyone leaves the office at one and I continue on until five. Oh the drunken answers to caller questions and office drunken email would be epic. 

Work Hard Play Harder

Dear Office Bitch sans Lube,

I missed you and I am so glad you are back.

After a night of drunken tomfoolery on a work night I found myself in the bed of some I knew...well, only causally until ...uh...well, you know what I am saying.  Suddenly, it was 6:45am the next morning  and I am still in my work clothes from the night before and I didn't have time to go across town for another change of clothes. Well, I went to work in the same clothes I'd worn the day before. It was obvious to everyone that I did not make it home. Nothing is more humiliating then doing the walk of shame through your office.

Anyway, I work hard at doing my job and feel I should be able to play as hard as I like. In the event that it may happen again. What can I do to avoid that dark and shady walk on a Wednesday morning?

And DON'T take forever in answering please.

Pimpstress in Heels!