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Griswold -> My Secretary (who's the singularly best on the planet).... (7/13/2007 3:58:40 PM)
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My secretary...is the BEST secretary on Earth....and I thought I'd share with you a recent email I had with her, prior to a recent (upcoming) travel engagement that I had.
She so completely rocks.
I have to travel to the East coast, as I do on occasion. Along my travels, I'll be visiting a city wherein which an ex-girlfriend of mine lives, and her father lives nearby, whom I tremendously enjoy his company (and hers), and for whatever reason, where I come from, we seem to have these fabulous Bing cherries, which as I understand things...aren't available in his area.
And...I forget things on occasion.
(Okay...I actually forget everything).
I called her this afternoon to ask her to call me on Sunday (I'm flying out on Monday, ultra early a.m.) to remind me to buy these Bing cherries.
When I did, she told me "I have 5 post it notes all over my kitchen to ensure that I call you on Sunday to guarantee that you stop off at Safeway and pick up every Bing cherry they have".
(This on top of the fact that she purchased 3 different sized boxes for me to transport all this stuff in, all sitting on my chair, each with different options as to size and ability to fit into any number of Boeing overhead compartments...WITH bubble wrap to protect the cherries...AND!!!! 5 blue freezer thingies to keep them cold the entire flight...and instructions as to how to freeze these blue thingies...which really isn't that fucking difficult...I mean...really, I can probably figure out how to freeze something).
And so I sent her an email (some of the parenthesis are here to protect the innocent):
I've decided I'm never going to talk to you again.
After our conversation at approx. 3:04 p.m. on Friday the 13th (July, 2007), it's become blatantly apparent to me that you not only read my mind, but you are very likely a product of Area 51, and likely have tenticles into my very cerebral cortex. I've seen the way you hover around my desk...with that little smile...I know your gig. Oh yeah....that's right. I called you because I wanted you to call me on Sunday (because I forget everything...including those things that I even have notes for) to remind me to get some Bing Cherries for (my ex's) Dad. I am now beginning to realize that you are actually a foreign invader from another solar system and your interim goal is to take over the world, starting with (name of my company). Lemme tell you something kiddo...I'm on to your shit...and I PERSONALLY will protect this planet...(and I'm spreading the fucking word!!!!) Your days are numbered pal. I know what you're up to. And I'm here to make sure that your alien threat won't botulize the planet. I'm watching out for you. You might get a few raises over the coming years (possibly as many as 5 or 10...but don't let that number dissuade you from realizing....I got your number!!)...but just be aware....I know your game...and I'm way the fuck ahead of you. (Just thought I'd let you know...all that "covering my ass" shit, and "knowing everything before I think about it" crap....well.... I'm on to you). And...just for the record...any one of you bastards that tries to hire her away from me.... I'll kill you.
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