23 Aug 2007 › 3:02 p.m.
On the upside, I’m actually getting a ton of exercise today. On the downside, I’ve been sucked into a middle-age note passing extravaganza between Claire and Mr. Copeland. Claire’s been having me hand-deliver those confidential, inter-office envelopes to Mr. Copeland’s office all day long. At least I’m not alone in this. Mr. Copeland’s third assistant (yes, he has three) has had to trek back here schlepping envelopes of her own, an equal number of times.
Have I ever told you about his assistants? Well, first of all, they are three of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen in real life (including models – who’ve all begun to look like the cast of Girl Interrupted lately). Second of all, they are three of the nastiest. Their bitchiness ascends in direct proportion to their seniority. Mr. Copeland’s first assistant, Ingrid, once hit a temp with a ruler when said temp accidentally answered the phone, “Good morning, Mr. Copeland’s office,” at 3 p.m. His second assistant, Ashley, once made the guy who goes around the building watering plants, weep (this was actually a huge scandal – who knew that was a union job?). Ashley refuses to speak to me directly. We communicate exclusively through the third assistant, Marina, who Ashley treats as her personal slave. Marina has perfected the art of reacting to nothing. I seriously think I could throw thumbtacks at her face and she wouldn’t blink. I wonder if this is a common trait in torture victims? So although Marina and I have been doing this little dance all day, the pleasantries have not exactly been a’flowin.
But just a few minutes ago, as she arrived armed with yet another envelope, she gave me a very pointed look that I wasn’t sure how to interpret. It was so intense that I thought she might be coming on to me. But then she quickly unwound the string from the envelope and peeked inside. I instinctively spun around to confirm that Claire’s door was closed (which I’m sure made me look like a panicky nerd). Marina’s gorgeous face lit up. “I knew it!” She said, and tipped the envelope my way so I could see. Inside was a square plastic card. For a split second I didn’t get it, I guess I was thinking corporate Visa, big wup. But then I got it. It was a hotel key.
