Dolly is the Bride of Satan.
No, seriously, she is! There can be no other explanation. I swear the woman is the living embodiment of Evil, and it is up to me to stop her. If my life was an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, today would be the episode where the Big Bad's ultimate plan for the destruction of all things holy and good is finally revealed.
To begin with, allow me to direct you to past examples of Dolly's Evil Ways. Like the time she left me to the mercy of a crazy old man, and the time she made me flip down her confounded umbrella, and the time she tried to gas me, and the time she didn't understand the printer or the fax machine, and the time she had those ridiculous "stomach pains" that cleared up as soon as she didn't have any more photocopying to do. My point is that we all already knew she was evil. We just didn't know she was The First Evil.
But now? Now we do. Oh yes, my eyes have been opened. And it didn't take no Skeet Ulrich to show me, either. I knew it from the very minute Dolly blew into the office this morning on a cloud of sulfur and brimstone, flashing me a smug grin that showed off all five rows of her teeth, and announced, "I've got a big project for you today! You're going to love me!"
Sure. Just replace "love" with "murder" and you've got the nail right on the head, there.
So here's the project: she's decided that she wants the be The Best! Salesperson! EVER! And that means she has to drum up new business! So she wants me to track down the name and address of every single Social Chair of every single fraternity and sorority in the greater L.A. area. Today. No, I'm not kidding. No, I'm not making that up. Yes, Dolly is, in fact, THE DEVIL!
I mean, WHAT THE FUCK IS SHE THINKING??? Is this project even possible? I mean, there are at least five major universities right in the immediate area, and countless Greek houses. It's not she's giving me a list of hotels we've worked with in the past and asking me to update our information on them. She wants me to locate every single Greek house in southern California!
She's all, "Now, some places may even have directories of all the Social Chairs that they can just fax, but most of them probably won't. So, like, go to the university's website and see if you can track down the houses and then call around to get names and addresses and phone numbers, and then create a database so that you put together a mass mailing. If they're not listed, you can call general information and they'll transfer you around till you get someone who might be able to help. It won't be that hard at all!" And I'm like, "Are you listening to yourself? ARE YOU LISTENING TO YOURSELF??? 'Won't be that hard at all'?!?! That's completely antithetical to everything you just told me! Are you high? Are you high? ARE YOU??"
I mean, this is not a simple task by any stretch of the imagination, and she's asking me to do it. It took me three weeks to find a pizza place that delivered to my neighborhood, for the love of all things decent, and she's giving me this stupid-ass research project like I'm fucking Columbo or her paralegal or something. Kiss my ass, Matlock, you do it! I'm not going to see a red cent for doing all this extra work, so you can just go get bent.
Oh, plus she was all, "And you'll be really busy, so you probably won't be able to do all of this," giving a dismissive hand gesture in the general direction of TWoP, the only thing that keeps my sanity from leaving me for another man. I'm telling you guys, Dolly is evil incarnate.
And the worst part of it is that she's completely clueless as well. She really thinks that I'm going to be able to just get this done. Does she even realize that my job here is to answer the fucking phone? Like, they keep giving me assignments that involve me calling places, but as soon as the phone rings, I have to hang up or put the other guy on hold indefinitely so I can take care of my other responsibilities. Seriously, this "little project" is going to take me all week long. I can't be away from TWoP for that long or I seriously will start killing people the phone cord.
So now I'm looking at the USC Greek System homepage, and I'm going to lose my mind. 75% of these places have absolutely no contact information whatsoever. It's kind of funny too, though, because each of these frats has a 'house flower'. It's a little hard to take a big, macho frat guy seriously when you know he's being represented by the white tea rose.
Meanwhile, Dolly is sitting in the back surrounded by black candles, waving a pair of chicken's feet and chanting in some dead language like Sumerian or Esperanto or something, trying to raise some ancient hell-beast to do her bidding.
This is going to be a long, long day.