A SuperJew-less office.
Today is the first day sans SuperJew, and I must admit, the saying about not missing your water 'til your well runs dry most definitely carries some weight.
Don't get me wrong, I don't miss SuperJew because I liked her. No, no, no. I miss her because she kept me constantly entertained and annoyed. My tendency to hang on to her every word became my dirty little secret. Her cringe-inducing actions...my secret vices. Oh, how I loved to hate her. It’s funny how sometimes hating a person is even more fun than liking one. How sometimes your glee piques more when someone screws up than when he or she does well. Oh, how I would shudder when I saw SuperJew bring her toothbrush and toothpaste into the bathroom after coffee; how she would sneer when someone asked her a question that was clearly beneath her. For example, supposedly she had a slight run-in with Adam Sandler (or someone – can’t remember, to tell you the truth). She bragged about it to a select few in the office, but when the topic came up again over bagels on Friday, and interest was expressed by the Israeli girl, SuperJew looked straight at her and rolled her eyes with hatred.
Besides loving to hate SuperJew, I am a bit miserable with her replacement, OrthoJew. She’s offering me absolutely no good material. Hating her is not nearly as fun as hating SuperJew. The chick does not talk; just sits there doing work. I imagine this is satisfying to the publisher, but what about me? Don’t I count for anything? She can't just sit there and work all day. What does she think this place is? I need someone to amuse me. I’m going through some serious withdrawal symptoms right now.
As such, I've got to figure out how to get OrthoJew fired and take on all future hiring duties myself. The only problem is, her work ethic is flawless. Damnit. She has no business being here. I think this whole "working while you're at work thing" is a conspiracy to make all of us slackers look bad. On that note, perhaps I will present some sort of OrthoJew conspiracy theory to the publisher and take it from there. "She's out to get us..." it will start. I'll start spreading the word to co-workers today. Perhaps I can fold a 20-dollar bill in such a way that I can prove my theory. It would be similar to how some people "proved" World Trade Center conspiracy theories by submitting telling folded bills.
I just have to figure out how to fold it so as to perfectly illustrate her sitting at her desk working diligently, while the rest of us are in the kitchen eating stale bagels, reminiscing about the good ol' days when SuperJew was here. At the very least, it will keep me entertained.