So things at work have been, um, tense to say the least.
And sadly because work's been consuming me, I haven't many non-work things to blog about.
So instead of focusing on the negative henpeckapalooza I could devote thousands of posts to, I'll relate this funny story to you.
Or at least I thought it was funny. Perhaps I'm just a little fried from working so much that it seems hysterical.
Every year Big Boss sends Harry & David gift baskets to three people: the legal secretaries at his Uncle's law firm, the priest who runs the prep school he's on the board of trustees for and his priests at his home parish.
And because, I, lovable, not so furry Bezzie, work for Big Boss, he usually hands over his credit card to me with his choices circled in the latest Harry & David catalogue and I phone in his order.
Last year was a royal clusterfuck because they screwed up the name of the main priest at his parish.
The priest's name is Liam, but the rep I placed the order spelled it "Leeyam." And apparently by the time the confirmation email came with the order spelled out, it was too late for them to change it or some malarkey when we called back.
Thus, this year I was extra careful in ordering the three fruit baskets.
First I ordered the Legal Secretaries' basket.
Easy peasy. My rep, Shanna (not her real name), aced my instructions for the type of basket I wanted and the note.
Second up was the basket for Father Robert Jones of the prep school.
I spelled out the padre's name for her, had her repeat it back to me and then gave her the message to put on his basket:"Dear Father Bob--Merry Christmas! Love, Big Boss and Big Boss Wifey"
Shanna recited back the message to me dutifully.
Finally with the third basket, we hit a bit of a stumbling block. This is what I was afraid of because this was the basket for Father "Leeyam."
Father Liam is the head priest at the Immaculate Conception church.
When I read her the address, I slowly said:
"Immaculate Conception Church, 123 Jesus Lane, Bossville, New Jersey"
But she kept stumbling over the word "conception."
So I carefully spelled it for her..."C as in cat, O as in Oscar, N as in Nancy..."
To which she replied "Oh! Immaculate Confection Church?"
Ok, so I spent half my childhood being raised Catholic, but is it really hard to understand what the Immaculate Conception is?
I mean I understand that I didn't clarify it by calling it the
Church sorry, I stand corrected (I toldja we cut and ran half way through my childhood from the church!!)
But my error proves my point. Even though I'm wrong about who the Immaculate Conception was about, I still know the name---but Immaculate Confection
Although, if we had attended a church called the Immaculate Confection growing up, I might still be Catholic....
I'll bet the hosts at communion are Necco wafers at the Immaculate Confection church.
Anyway, Shanna finally got the order right AND she spelled Father LIAM's name back to me twice so I felt confident she got it.
I completed the order, hung up, and five minutes later I got the email confirmation of the order that reiterated what Big Boss had me order, where to send it, and the gift messages.
I skipped over the other orders and quickly scanned to the order to Father Liam at the Immaculate Conception church.
And it was RIGHT! Hooray! Irish priest's name nailed and no extra sweetness to the church name!
But then something caught my eye--the order to Father Bob at the prep school:Father Robery Jonesc/o Newark Prep School123 Allegedlyscary StreetNewark, NJGift Message: Dear Father God--Merry Christmas!
After spending half an hour on the phone with Shanna, the idiot sales rep for Harry & David, I could only laugh that she a) accused a priest of robbery, and b) sent the fruit basket to Father God instead of Father Bob in one fell swoop.
Poor Father Bob. I know he's a humble servant of God, but to have to give up his fruit basket to the big man too?
Labels: Holidays, Musings, Work