Today I just witnessed the most disturbing sight of all.
I walked in the lab and found The Bossman bobbing his head to the tune of Britney Spears’ If You Seek Amy blasting from our little radio while working on our viral cultures. I think the song must have been playing in his head the whole morning that he eventually figured out the actual meaning of the song, because when I came back after lunch the radio was turned to the oldies station.
I had to bring peace-offering-pies to work today. Two to be exact — blueberry custard & apple pie. I woke up at 5:30 am to catch the first batch of fresh pies because I have to atone for my recklessness.
The Bossman came back last Monday from his one week of cranking slot machines & hoovering buffet tables. Instead of greeting me with his usual keebler elfish top-o’-the-morning tone, I was greeted with a finger wag and a devilish smirk.
“You know, I only told one person that I was going to Las Vegas, and he squealed. I was surprised to be greeted this morning with, ‘So how was Vegas?’”
“Well, maybe they just assumed that you went to Vegas?”
“You could have told them I didn’t go anywhere. That I stayed home.”
“For one week?!”
“Yeah…?”
“Well, I’m sorry. I’m such a bad liar. Everyone assumed you went to Vegas before I told anyone, because where else would you go? So they bugged me about it. What am I suppose to say? What’s the big deal about me telling them anyway?”
“Well, that means I need to bring omiyage (souvenir/gifts) for everyone.”
“Why don’t you just go to Costco and buy a big box of something that looks like it came from Vegas?”
“Actually, I have a better idea. Why don’t you bring some pies from Sunny Side?”
So, this morning the Bossman wrote on the announcement board:
Staff,
Omiyage pies are at the lounge. Help yourself to blueberry-custard and apple pies.
– (The Bossman)
“Be careful when you’re working with these,” The Bossman said.
He was giving me instructions on how to properly prepare our HSV proficiency specimens.
“They’re just as infectious as live viruses, you know. They’re in fact dehydrated viruses.”
So with surgical precision I rehydrated the vial using a small syringe. I held my breath as I pulled the needle out of the small vial’s rubber stopper, trying to prevent my hands from shaking and inadvertently poke myself with a syringe full of hydrated Herpes Simplex Virus.
As I carefully pulled it out I thought to my self: “Man, my work hazards are no different than that of a Hollywood Boulevard hooker. One mistake and say hello to Valtrex forever.”
My boss is an old Samurai in his late 50’s. He’s ruled the lab for the last 20 plus years with an iron hand. Nothing gets past him. Show up late for work and you’re getting an earful. Take your 10 min break longer than you’re suppose to and you’ll end up at the receiving end of his wrath. He’s well aware of his reputation of being a word I can’t mention in this blog (let’s just say it’s a word that starts with the letter A and ends with the word hole). He’s actually proud of the fact that everyone trembles in fear at the mere mention of his name.
At work they call me the Golden Child, a reputation I so despise but at the same time I am so grateful for. It’s not because I am so great at work that I got such a reputation but it’s a rather dubious one. For some reason my boss has a certain affinity for me. I’ve been late for work a few times yet I’ve never heard any grumblings from him. I’ve also taken longer breaks than I should but not a word out of his mouth came forth. At work I am one of the few people that can bring a smile to his face. Every time he’s in a bad mood my coworkers would coerce me to talk him out of his bad mood. And most of the time I would succeed. I ‘m not exactly sure why that is so but I’d like to keep it that way. The further away I am from the receiving end of his wrath the better my life is at work.
I think one of the reasons why the boss likes me is because I am not afraid to sit down and engage in some intellectual conversations with him. Take note though that I’m using the word intellectual very very loosely. He’s passionate about tropical fishes and wood turning. Every conversation no matter how remote we start off with always ends up being about fish or wood. One time we were talking about the genocide in Rwanda, and how we ended up talking about cichlids is a mystery to me.
But once in a while he would throw me off with off-the-wall questions that would either leave me scratching my head or feeling creeped out. As you’re reading the following conversations imagine a staunch and fierce-looking old Samurai asking a carefree Filipino lad silly questions.
Conversation #1
As I walked in the room he asks me:
Boss: Are you a Ninja?
Me: WHAT??? *scratches head*
Boss: When you went to Japan you didn’t take Ninja training, or that sort, did you?
Me: ummm… No, why?
Boss: I was just wondering if you could crawl out of the air ducts without me noticing you gone.
Me: I think it would be easier if I just tell you that I’m leaving.
Boss: You’re not gonna use one of those smoke screens are you?
Me: No. I don’t even know where to get one of those.
Boss: Oh, okay. I was just wondering.
—-
Conversation #2
The phone rings. I answer it but the person on the other line hangs up.
Boss: Who was that?
Me: I don’t know. They hung up.
Boss: Oh. Did Barry call by the way?
Me: Who’s that?
Boss: You know… Barry.
Me: Huh? *thinks* — Oh! Obama you mean?
Boss: Yeah, did he call?
Me: Why would he want to call you? Are you guys friends or something?
Boss: No, but I was hoping he’d call.
—-
Conversation #4
Telling me about his recent purchase from Amazon.com.
He purchased a respirator for his wood turning hobby. The respirator consists of a belt that suctions air and blows it up through a plastic pipe and out of the helmet to prevent wood particles from being inhaled by the wood turner (click link for image).
Boss: Oh it finally came in today.
Me: What came?
Boss: The respirator I bought from Amazon.com.
Me: That’s cool. So did you get to try it out?
Boss: Yeah, it works great. I’m surprised that it only took them two days to deliver it and I didn’t have to pay an arm and a leg to get it.
Me: That’s great.
Boss: I have a little problem with it though.
Me: Uh-oh. I hope it has warranty.
Boss: No, no. It’s not that. The machine works fine.
Me: So is it the operator then?
Boss: Yeah, somewhat.
Me: Oh, so what’s the problem then?
Boss: I can’t fart when I’m on it.
Me: Ha ha ha! Yeah that’s dangerous. We don’t want you passing out while turning wood. That means you can’t eat tsukemono (Japanese fermented vegetables served as side dish) before you operate it then.
Boss: I know. And I love radish tsukemono.
All of a sudden I feel grossed out.
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