Tuesday, May 29, 2007

If you work for me you can't read this:


I'm still trying to get the hang of owning my own business. Being "The Boss," or in my case, "The Bosses Husband," tends to put a cramp in my general conversational style. There are all kinds of rules that I am expected to know despite the fact that no one has written them down for me. For example, Bobbi chastised me last week for making a comment about an employee's cleavage. Now, to be fair, this employee has been a friend of ours for many years on a social level and I have said much worse to her outside the office. However, now that she works for us I am no longer allowed to speak to her the same way. Okay, I can live with that I guess.
This week, Bobbi told the same person that I sometimes apply a hair removal product to a part of my body that is normally only seen by my wife and doctor.
So, I guess the rule is:
Discussion of employee cleavage in the office = Not OK.
Discussion of owner's balls in the office = OK.

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