My employer, the RSD, is starting to worry me. See, he started his twice a year trade show on Friday morning. They call it the "International Home Furnishings Market", but in reality it's nothing more than a glorified flea market where vendors hawk their wares.
You see, this event makes him even more crabby than usual because he has to spend 12 hours a day with a bunch of, well, he refers to them as "dinks". It's really a stressful time for me as well. He yells a lot during this time, his blood pressure shoots up, and he irrationally gets angry at small things like the light not turning green as fast as he'd like.
This market he's got even more stress. It seems that the powers that be at MLB decided to have the Red Sox (they are his FAVORITE team, I have to say. They have this one gentleman named Manny, who has really long dread locks and likes to "Pimp it", whatever that means) who he really likes to see play. Anyway, whoever is in charge decided to have them play 3 day games over the span of 4 days, which has caused some problems with my boss.
See, he's not a fan of taping a game and watching it later. Although he did it today, because somebody he called "The Commander of the FYYO Brigade" was pitching. Now, I have no idea who that is, but it caused the RSD to walk around all day talking about "bringing it" and "putting one in the ear hole". I have no clue what that means, but I think it's important to bring it up.
I'm writing this because I just received a communication that had the phrase "Frank Thomas can bite Beck's tweeter" and "tell Bud Selig to.....", I'm sorry. I'm too much of a lady to repeat that one. And I'm sort of embarrassed I typed the word tweeter, even though I have no idea what it means.
Please. Can whoever is in charge of such matters try and fix this situation? You have no idea what he's like when he's angry. I can't be positive, but I'm pretty sure I overheard him say last night, and I quote, "Whoever is responsible for putting the Ring Ceremony on during the middle of the day is getting a paper bag set on fire on their front porch." I have no idea what he's talking about, but it can't be good.
I just received an email where he incoherently rambled about someone named "Doc", Lugo needing a eye exam, and strangely "Who told Papi he could cut his hair?"Hopefully you know what this means, because I'm completely in the dark.
To close, I hope I've pleaded my case. My employer is not well; he has high blood pressure, he doesn't take care of himself, and according to various sources, his children are a tad misbehaved. He really does live for this baseball team he follows, and if he can't see them? Well, let's just say I bear the brunt of his frustration.
Being that I'm 50 years old and single, I can't stress enough that I need this job. So can someone tell "Uncle Bud", whoever that is, to please get off his rear and help a lady out?
P.S. Is the little fella who plays second base spoken for?