Boss-Lady

Its Friday afternoon, but a drama is about to kick off ’

- Jenny Robson

This corner office is awesome! I love its ambience of luxurious efficiency… of elegant dominance.

The plush chair smells of new leather. The oak desk gleams beneath the jetblack landline phone with its silver buttons. Silent for the moment, which is a relief. I’m not in the mood for highflying deals and serious discussions right now. The brass in-tray is empty, too. Which is the way it should be by Friday afternoon.

And of course there is the cherished name-plaque: Beth Armitage, Sales Manager. It could just as well read: Beth Armitage, Boss-lady or Queen of Mean or Mistress of the Known Universe.

Those are a few of the more flattering titles I’ve heard here on the Sixth Floor among the many cubicles of our sales reps and order clerks.

But there’ll be no meanness happening right now. Even though, through the squeaky-clean glass, I can see that Cedric the contracts clerk is playing online poker. And Tobias and Shirley are flirting openly at the water cooler. (Never mind that they are both married – to other people!) While Cassandra, the temp, is applying bright green nail-polish with deep concentration.

So be it! It’s Friday afternoon and we’ve already exceeded our weekly target. The big bosses upstairs on the Fifteenth Floor are more than happy.

So I don’t leave the corner office to rally the troops or demand they get back to work. I just give them a wave and let them carry on. A good boss-lady knows when to rein in the bossiness, I believe.

Calvin, the parts rep, pokes his headround the door.

“So? Will you and Mick be joining us down at O’Hara’s?”

“Of course,” I say. “Where else would we spend Friday evening?”

“Shots all round, yeah?”

“Maybe just one for me. I’ve got some chores tomorrow morning.”

Calvin laughs, a little like a hyena.