Kirsty's Meeting

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
A story based on a disaster of a meeting I had to go to last year.

Submitted: March 09, 2007

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Submitted: March 09, 2007

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I had been working as a secretary in a law firm for the past eight months and had managed to not do anything too mind numbingly embarrassing, until the monthly review. My supervisor singled me out for the meeting because he could not make it and needed someone to report the division's statistics. I was so pleased! A chance to give a good impression to the superiors, maybe get a promotion? I would sit in that big boardroom and inform the partners with my best BBC voice that our division was right on target and then flash them a professional but rather sexy smile. This was of course until I realised that I didn't actually have any figures or reports to tell the executives. Panicky I rang the supervisor who absent minded said "You know people within the division, ask around". Ask around? Ask around! What kind of advice was that?!

I had written the name of the meeting room on my hand and it was only when I was running to the room, late and trying to read the smudge on my hand which now looked like some form of tropical disease that I realised what a stupid idea that had been. I was late, I certainly wasn't wearing my best suit and now I was beginning to sweat and look like a giant rushing tomato lady.

I found a room whose number looked reminiscent to the note on my now black hand. Hurriedly I entered, but as I got through the door I realised that I didn't know one person there. A little too loudly I apologised for being in the wrong room and hastily departed, cussing some very unladylike words in the corridor. Through this rant I could hear a familiar voice.

"Kirsty! Kirsty! You were in the right room come back". I turned to see a not very happy looking boss standing in the doorway. Sheepishly I traipsed back into the room, trying to avoid all those people I had shouted at. My boss gave me a name plate and sat back down. As I looked around the round table I realised that there wasn't a seat left for me. Scanning the room I saw a leather armchair at the far end of the room. I walked briskly to the other side of the room and began to drag the chair to the table, as the legs screeched over the floor like fingernails on a chalk board. By now everyone in the room is staring at this badly dressed, sweaty, squeaky lady trying desperately not to be seen but not really doing a very good job of it.

Here is the horror of horrors, as I sat down on the chair it gave out the most disgusting wet fart noise I could ever imagine. I didn't think people could turn that colour, unless they had lobster relatives somewhere in their family tree, but obviously yet again I was very wrong.

The meeting began again, as I struggled not to move one iota on my flatulent chair.

"If everyone could leave their reports in the tray as they leave, that would be much appreciated". I didn't have a report; I hardly had anything to say let alone a folder in front of me on the table. It wasn't as though I would have been able to either as only my head was visible over the side of the desk. Damn this short flatulent chair.

Out of interest I turned around my name plate and saw ‘Gary Clarke' staring back at me, the name of my supervisor. It was almost my turn to try and talk my way out of not knowing anything. Please don't call me Gary; please don't call me Gary I repeated over and over in my head.

"So...ah.....Gary Clarke what have you got to say" He looked straight at me. For a moment I had a horrible realisation that perhaps I looked like a man, until I looked down, no really I did look like a woman.

"Er..No sir it's Kirsty Williams, I'm standing in for Mr Gary Clarke" the stare I got was almost sub artic. Really I should have not been the only one looking like a flailing idiot that day.

I stuttered out a poor report for my division, most of it fantasy anyway. As soon I was finished he turned away from me, not bothering to acknowledge my report anyway. After a few round up points from other members the meeting was adjourned. I stood up hastily making a few departing disgusting noises from the chair and power walked out of the door before anyone could ask me why I hadn't placed a report into the folder on the desk. My boss hasn't spoken to me since and something tells me I wont ever be asked to attend another meeting again, but then again I'm not sure if it will be me he's not asking or Gary Clarke the amazing flatulent tomato lady. Perhaps I should be considering a career change.


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