Think
you've got what it takes to be an Executive Ass at The Totem Pole
Company?
Think
you could work for Franz every day and still come home with ten
viable fingernails every night?
Take my
little *quiz* ... no fair cheating! ... and find out!
* * * * * * * *
It
is 8:03 a.m. Monday morning.
You've just struggled into your
office
with an armload of mail and faxes, along with
four newspapers, your purse, your library book and a plastic bag filled
with a week's worth of Slim Fast. There are 37 new voicemail messages
in your voicemail box: 36 of them are marked "Priority." In addition,
there are four FedEx "Super-Critical-Emergency (We-Mean-It!)" overnight
shipments leaning against your door, time sheets are due in thirty
minutes, the fax machine is beeping "Out of Toner," Franz' 9 a.m.
appointment is here an hour early ... and even though you haven't had
any coffee yet, you've already got to pee.
Just then, the receptionist pages you on the overhead intercom to "pick
up Franz on line four."
What do you do first?
A.)
Pretend you don't hear the receptionist. (Franz can be HER
problem for twenty minutes.) And then duck out the side door for the
ladies' room and a leisurely cup of coffee.
B.)
Take Franz' phone call -- making sure you sound all whiney and
distressed -- and tell him you "don't know" if you'll
have time to transcribe his voicemail messages.
C.)
Answer Franz' call immediately, using your very best "God! I am
ABSURDLY HAPPY to hear
from you!" voice. Convince
him that you've been
here for HOURS already, and assure him that
everything is under control. Tell him that you're "looking forward to
seeing him" whenever he finally makes it into the office. While he
rants and raves in your ear for the next eleven minutes, quietly fire
off emergency e-mail to the Admin Department ("I will love you
forever if you come help me change the fax toner!"),
and to Accounting ("I'm going to need a one hour extension on
time sheets, OK?") and to the Receptionist ("Please
show Mr. Schmoe into the conference room, tell him Franz is 'slightly
delayed' and get him some coffee"). Murmur reassuringly into the
receiver every forty seconds or so, just so Franz thinks you're paying
attention. Open and date-stamp the mail and the FedEx packages while
you
murmur. After eleven minutes, tell Franz that his cell phone is
"cutting out" and abruptly hang up. And then run like hell to the
ladies' room.
* * * * * * * *
For
the second Monday morning in a row, Franz' beloved "Luna Vineyards"
coffee mug has been removed from his desk and run through the
dishwasher with the rest of the dishes ... in spite of repeated,
sternly-worded *All Company Memos* requesting that The Royal Mug ONLY
be hand-washed in cool water and antibacterial soap and gently polished
dry with a cloth diaper. And now here
it is, sitting upside-down on the top rack of the dishwasher again. How
do you handle it?
A.)
*Accidentally* drop the mug on the kitchen floor a couple of times,
then put it back into the dishwasher.
B.) The
moment Franz comes into the office, start waving the mug around in his
face, indignantly shouting "They did it again! They did
it again!"
C.)
Drink YOUR first cup of coffee out of The Royal Mug, before he gets
into the office. Leave about a quarter-inch of
liquid in the bottom of the cup, then place it back on his desk,
right where he left it on Friday. (Just remember to wipe your lipstick
off the rim.)
* * * * * * * *
Franz
leaves a small electronic device in the middle of your desk. You have
no clue what it is. A garage door opener? A duck whistle? A phaser?
Attached to the mystery device is an equally cryptic Post-It note
saying "Please research repair options!" What do
you do?
A.)
*Accidentally* allow the mystery device to fall behind your filing
cabinet. By the time it resurfaces -- next January or February, when
you are finally moving into the corner window
office you requested last May -- Franz will have forgotten all about
it. Then you can give it to him for Christmas.
B.)
Call Mrs. Franz and ask, "Did your vibrator come with a warranty?"
C.)
Search Franz' desk for the latest issue of Sky Mall Magazine;
flip
through all of the full-page advertisements for various electronic
gizmos, looking for the closest match to the mystery device. (You know
that Franz does all of his stoopid-gadget-shopping
from 35,000 ft. and three Chivas Regals in the air.)
* * * * * * * *
You've
snagged your very last pair of *emergency pantyhose* on your bottom
desk
drawer, and now you've got a run the size of the Loma Prieta faultline
going up the front of your thigh. What do you do?
A.)
Lock your office door, clamp your phone to your
ear and pretend you're "listening to voicemail" for the rest of the
afternoon.
B.) Ask
Franz if he's still got that pair of Midnight Black *Sheer Elegance*
you found stuffed into the secret side pocket of his briefcase.
C.) Say
"Gosh, Franz, I've noticed that you're running low on Tum's Ultra. Let
me walk to Long's Drugs on my lunch hour and buy you a new bottle. On
me."
* * * * * * * *
Oops.
You neglected to water the dwarf schleffera on Friday afternoon, and by
Monday morning it has assumed the fetal position again. What do you do?
A.) Tip
it over ... and then blame the janitor.
B.)
Water it three times as much this morning, to make up for all those
lost days.
C.)
Water it very lightly -- just enough to slightly
dampen the top soil -- and then close all of the vertical blinds in
Franz' office. When he comes in, assume an expression of concern,
saying that you "don't think the schleffera is getting enough
morning light."
* * * * * * * *
Franz
leaves you an imperious voicemail message, requesting that you "clean
the mess off his desk ASAP." Frankly: you're furious. The
memory of
those eight days
you spent in April, cleaning and organizing his office from top to
bottom ... followed by the FORTY MINUTES it took him to completely
demolish it, all over again ... is still fresh in your mind. Do you:
A.)
Recruit Jocelyn the Librarian to help you. Promise to buy her a candy
bar. Tell her she can bring her boombox along and listen to all the
Celine Dion her heart desires. Lull her into a false sense of security.
Get her started sorting through mountainous piles of unread e-mail and
outdated RFP's and newspaper clippings all about sprinkler systems ...
and then suddenly have yourself called away on an *Unexpected Family
Emergency.*
B.)
Refuse to clean off his desk for Franz' own good. Leave him
voicemail saying, "How will you ever develop proper
time-management and organizational skills if *I* do everything for you?"
C.) Do
exactly what you did last time: dump the whole mess into two cardboard
boxes, lug them across the hall to *your* office, and sort through them
when you have the frigging time. He will NOT miss ANY
of it. He won't even know it's gone. All he'll see is that big blank
desktop, and he'll figure that once again he has successfully cracked
the whip, and everybody will be happy.
* * * * * * * *
Franz
has received another electronic greeting card, via e-mail, from a
female "friend" in Switzerland. Although you routinely process all of
his e-mail for him (read this: he's had the new computer in his office
for six months and still hasn't plugged it in), this one is marked
"Personal and Confidential." Do you open it anyway?
A.) Absolutely! And
if it's something especially *cute,* you print it out and pin a copy of
it to the lunchroom bulletin board.
B.) No way!
"Personal and Confidential" means PERSONAL and CONFIDENTIAL.
Suggest to Franz that he enroll in a local "Internet for Seniors"
class, so he can learn to process his own e-mail.
C.)
Sure! And then you forward it on to MRS. Franz.
* * * * * * * *
Expense
reports were due yesterday, but this morning Franz dumps eight
bazillion metric tons of restaurant receipts, parking lot stubs and
scribbled mileage tickets on your lap and says "Let's get these into
Accounting ASAP." What do you do?
A.)
Wait until Tamita in the Accounting Department goes to lunch, and then
stick the expense report and all of the receipts at the very bottom of
her "In" basket. When it comes to light
and questions are asked, lie and say you gave it to her on Friday.
Didn't she see it? Perhaps *she* should go upstairs and speak to Franz
about it.
B.)
Primly remind him that bi-monthly expense reports were his
idea in the first place, and that there are no exceptions to the rule.
Add that he needs to set a good example for everybody else in the
company by submitting his report in a timely fashion.
C.) Say
"Sure thing, Franz!" and begin paper-clipping
receipts to a blank expense report form, while he stands in the doorway
and watches. As soon as he goes away, stash the whole mess in your
tickler file for next
week. (The man is richer than GOD: He can wait for
that $4.63 reimbursement check, just like everybody else.)
* * * * * * * *
"How
are we doing on that letter?" Franz asks. When you look
ever-so-slightly baffled, he says, "You know. That letter. To that
guy I met at the meeting the other week. About that project." Do you:
A.)
Lie. Tell him that you left a rough draft of the letter on his chair
last week ("Didn't you see it?") and that you've been waiting for him
to return it with edits. Say this with as much wide-eyed earnestness as
possible. Turn this into his problem.
B.)
Look as blank and dopey as a fetal pig in a jar of formaldehyde, and
tell the truth. "I'm afraid I'm not sure what letter you're talking
about, Franz."
C.)
Stall for time while simultaneously goosing his fuddled brain for
more info. ("I remember constructing
an outline for that
letter and saving it to my hard drive. Any thoughts on what name I
might have saved it under?")
* * * * * * * *
SCORING
If
you scored mostly *A* answers:
You are a deeply, deeply disturbed individual. And although you would
probably be great as Franz' Executive Ass, the
truth is that your formidable talents would be wasted here. You might
want to consider becoming a career criminal. Or a police officer.
If
you scored mostly *B* answers:
What are you ... stoopid? Or suicidal?? You don't
belong in Executive Administration: you belong in a Sunday School
classroom with a goddamn SOCK PUPPET on each hand,
singing twinkly little songs about rainbows. Get the fudk out of here!!
If
you scored mostly *C* answers:
Congratulations! Not only do you possess ALL of the qualities a good
Executive Ass needs -- quick thinking, strong administrative skills,
superb acting ability, a mildly larcenous streak -- you also think
exactly the way *I* do! In fact, you are my new best friend!! I
LOVE YOU! I insist that you fly immediately to California and help me
clean
off Franz' desk tomorrow!!
I'll buy
you a candy bar.