One time I was a secretary for 6 weeks

The big cheese at work was a younger guy, maybe in his late 30s - mid 40s. He seemed very tense all the time (which a coworker alluded to being the result of cocaine for breakfast). He was nice to me. He was intense and at times almost apologetic with his requests, no matter what they were. "Kelly, (deep pause) I need you to do something for me, ah, please. In my personal fridge, in my office...there is some baloney...and there should be some mustard. There is a loaf of white bread in the break room...I am so hungry. Please make me a sandwich. I'm very busy right now, and I need to eat, I'm not feeling well. It doesn't have to be fancy, I just need it ASAP, I'm getting dizzy. Thank you so much." I was fine with making my boss a sandwich. It was way more interesting than the filing I wasn't bothering to do. But I can't stand when someone in a position to fire me acts pitiful.

The head bossman had a brother, Carl, and he was a bit of a sleaze. Before the other secretary quit, she told me that he spent company money on strippers. She also said someone caught The Brothers Pervert with a dominatrix in the office over a 3-day Fourth of July weekend. Oh, and the secretaries they hired before me were usually aspiring playmates. Before they hired me, they started to figure that maybe hiring on those credentials wasn't working so well, and decided to switch tracks and go with educated and homely, but still busty.

I'm not sure what Carl's job actually was. He was equivalent to the office dog in terms of what he did - wander around, make noise, and bother me for attention. I'm glad I didn't have to take him on walks, although he probably would have loved to be at the end of a leash I was holding.

In my wise old age, I now know that the Carl was flirting with me when he said "Wow, you like Robert Mitchum? We should talk movies more..." and "Hey, you should really come out for a drink with us after work some time." I thought he was just being weird. My favorite pass came after I re-booked a flight for him. (It was actually quite a hairy situation - I had sit on a three-way call for 45 minutes while I listened to a booking website rep and an airline rep duke it out over some unresolved prices... they'd been at each other's throats for months! The airline rep was all "YOU again!") Carl was ever so grateful for my trouble. "Wow, cute and smart. Kelly, you're so great to me. Thanks so much for booking me that flight." What could I do but modestly reply, "Well, Carl, it's my job." Because it was my job. He was in London and insisted on buying me a drink when he returned. My drink never came to fruition, however, because he died. Just kidding! I quit before he came back.