Lunch Break-Interrupted.

mondaycrazyme As a full time, school employee, I am entitled to a thirty minute lunch break of sorts. Uninterrupted. Thirty solid minutes of “me” time, where I am allowed to eat a sandwich, make a phone call, run an errand… and all of it, in peace. This of course, as you might have guessed has never fully come to fruition. I have yet to have a lunch break where I was not enthusiastically interrupted by my awkward boss. As soon as I find a location to lunch, it’s as if he has some sort of creeping radar that sets off in order to seek and disturb. Its slightly unnerving since I believe he has mastered some sort of silent ninja walk, and nine out of ten times will appear as if from nowhere.

Honestly, if he was a relatively normal person, I wouldn’t mind the interruption. Heck, if he were a relatively un-normal yet lovable person, I would welcome it. This is not the case. He is one of the more condescending people I have ever met, yet there is no real purpose behind his condescension. It’s just his general manner. He lurks, creeps, and peeks, whenever he gets a chance. Always watching. Always judging. He wears a particularly appauling pair of dressy denim pants, akin to the ones that my Grandfather wears with his monogrammed belt buckle. I find myself being semi repulsed by the familiarity of his dressy denim digs…perhaps at the thought that anything about this man could possibly remind me of family, who I am, or where I have come from.

He has mastered the art of the menacing conversation request. When he wants to talk to me, about anything, big or small, he will look down at me with an heir of glorious condescension, and ask “Excuse Me, Gina… Can I speak to you for a minute? Now?” This fun panic inducing inquiry usually occurs during the fifteen minute mark on my thirty minute lunch. And I, with the stomach sinking feeling of a child being escorted to the principles office for bad behavior, will then leave my break-time to be lectured or talked at about issues such as: after school lunch box placement, door locking, the whereabouts of my coworkers, payroll, and the importance of shutting off heat in places I was never made aware we had heaters, or how it is illegal for him to ask me my age, but how he is going to ask anyway.

My boss has never given me a direct compliment, or said anything particularly nice that isn’t in a weird round about way. For example, on my actual birthday I put out a nice cake in the office for the teachers to chow down on in celebration of my birthday festivities. Nearly every teacher told me happy birthday… thanks for the cake… yada yada. Here is the encounter with my boss:

Boss: “Soo. I see you had some getting older food in there.”

Me: “Huh?” (thinking: What the heck is he talking about? Awkward.)

Boss: “Cake. The getting older food.”

Me: “Oh. Yeah.”

Boss: “I had some already. Tasty.”

And then he walks away. I am pretty sure that was his version of “Happy Birthday”. (side note: teachers will eat anything you put in the faculty kitchen. Seriously. If I did not label my lunch with a thick sharpied out scrawl of my name, It would be gone come time to chow down.)

Here is another conversation had on my “lunch break” last week, discussing allergies, and uncomfortable mentions of him in the “Y” pool, soaking in the chlorine for it’s curative powers.

Boss: “Ah. You look very sad sometimes.”

Me: “Um, My eyes are just itchy.” (sad? most likely because you are lurking around every corner and it makes me uncomfortable… and I know I only have five minutes to finish my sandwich before this becomes lunch break interrupted.)

B: “Oh. Well, that happened to me last week. I found some homeopathic PINK EYE medicine in the cabinet.”

Me: “Really? Pink eye? ” (uhhh….)

B: “Yeah. Then I went to the pool at the “Y” and just layed there for quite some time, letting the chlorine take care of it.”

Me: “Oh.” (Trying to not be outwardly disgusted by the image of boss in swimwear, or the thought that people with pink eye knowingly go to public pools. )

B: “Yeah.”

Me: “It’s really just allergies. I don’t think I need pink eye medication, or chlorine or anything. There is a lot of hay around, so it’s probably that.

B: “Oh. hmmm. You don’t LOOK to be having allergies at all. At ALL.”

Me: “Uh..uh..” (Where is this going?)

B: “Seriously, you have good color. I think white people get allergies much worse.”

Me: “Heh. Uh. Thanks?” (Staring to question if my boss thinks I might be one of the following ethnicities: Black, Latino, Indian, Chinese?)

Me: “I will take that as a compliment.”

B” “Yeah it’s a good thing. White people really do get it worse.”

Me: “Heh… Uh…Okay.” I had never really had allergies until I got older.”

B: “OHHH…I was thirty.”

Me: “Yeah, It’s a bummer”

B: “Well, you know , just one of those parts of getting older. Different Ailments.”

Me: “Uh huh.” (I am really not that old, Sir… you are though.)

And then he saunters off… Looking for stray food to eat in the faculty fridge. The faculty fridge is terrifying, by the way. There are things like expired organic half and half, rotten unidentifiable fruits (or veggies?) curdled almond milk, and rice cheese gone wrong. I spend as little time in or near there as possible. I would clean it out, but they don’t pay me enough.

Just another day at the office, my friends. Just another day at the office.

Advertisements

~ by soartsyithurts on December 16, 2008.

One Response to “Lunch Break-Interrupted.”

  1. HOLE-LY SHIT that is amazing!!!!!! My god I wish I could be there, but reading your description is not far from it. I’m sorry to say it but I think this man might have a crush on you…else, why the frequent lurkings and everyday interruptions on your lunch break coupled with the condescension that he oozes in order to keep a superiority (in feeling) over you since he knows in his heart that you could not/would not/do not love him back? He must make contact with you but he also must remain distant to protect his (mostly hardened) heart. He is either super lonely (likely) or feels drawn to you (also likely). Either way, he is REAL good.

    Why did he ask for your age? Why does he lecture you about the heat you didn’t even know about??

    Can’t even believe how good the Pink Eye thing is…my god. Seriously, Sir, this is too much.

    Real good, G-Baby, keep it comin’!!!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

 
%d bloggers like this: