Where "Temp" Apparently Means "Comatose"

The receptionist at my office has been out for 2 weeks with a bleeding ulcer. (In other news, I somewhat abruptly quit my job at said office the other day, a development on which I will elaborate later.)

In the absence of our seasoned receptionist, we have a pleasant young temp who answers the phones cheerily and only leaves the desk on those occasions when her bladder threatens grave damage by means of violent explosion.

Being that she's only here until the real receptionist can get out of bed without requiring a morphine drip, our temp is not expected to do much other than answer the phones, which can go extended periods without ringing. So on her first day, I, taking pity, informed her she may feel free to read a book/newspaper/magazine, surf the net, balance her checkbook or do whatever the hell she wants to pass the time she's stuck in that chair like one of Madame Tussaud's wax figures.

So what does she do?

She sits there, hands clasped on the desk in front of her like a proud kindergartener in a school photo, staring straight ahead and smiling at people as they walk by. For hours. And hours.

Now, I've never been one to pass up an opportunity for unabashed staring into space over lengthy periods of time. But please, temporary receptionist! You're making my head hurt from the magnitude of my uneasiness toward your prolonged vegetative state. Are you rehearsing your audition for mime school?

Please turn to that computer screen and while away the hours emailing your pals, surfing random left-leaning blogs or posting messages on Johnny Depp fan sites. Go ahead, scan Missed Connections to see if anyone noticed you on the morning commute. Take that book on Careers in Theatre out of your bag and devour to your heart's delight. At the very least, pick up the phone and chatter mindlessly with friends about yoga or nail polish or that nutcase Moussaoui, whose name is kind of fun to say. Anything to let us know you haven't expired in that chair.

And, for Christ's sake, please enjoy the full 60 minutes allotted to you for lunch and stop making us all incredibly sad for you by returning to your mind-numbingly dull post after only 20 minutes! Really, what the hell's happened to the work ethic in this country?!

Oh, and a happy East-Over to everyone.

Posted by ayelet at April 14, 2006 09:19 AM