Hey dudes. This is actually Tyler, Jenkins' work buddy at Sutcliffe Catering Company. You may remember me from such posts as this one http://ift.tt/19oqGCX and this one http://ift.tt/19eEvE8 .
Jenkins phoned me this morning, sounding like something the cat (or one of my frat brothers back in the day) might have puked up on the rug. Poor son of a bitch sounded like death warmed over. He told me he'd been sending dispatches about some of the outlandish shit going down at our office and asked me to log in and make a post if anything weird happened today. He said he'd had "The most intense and horrifying dream of his life" and that he woke up much too freaked out to even think about coming into work.
So I glanced through the first couple of posts he's made, and I have to say that Jenkins has things more or less right. I DO have nice hair (Jenkins is balding hee hee) and I DO read The Economist and Chafee DID tell me I was gonna be his right hand man, his ace in the hole. Also, uh, yeah, our new boss does seem to have slain our old boss and decided to wear his face as a mask and I'm gonna level with you, I find that a little problematic.
Today I got to the office and went to the break room to make some tea. I carry a few Harney and Sons Cinnamon Sunset bags with me every day. Copped a bunch last time I hung out with dad at the Cornell Club. As Lil Wayne might say, they're the piss AND the shit (that means they're epic).
Corporate's really going all out with their renovations. As I was dispensing hot water into my mug I heard a ding ding ding and realized they'd added sound effects to the unoperational elevator door they uncovered behind the old fridge, which is a nice whimsical touch. I smiled a little as I tossed my container of almond and honey Greek yogurt into the new refrigerator.
I think it's kind of weird how I literally can't tell our new face-stealing Chafee from Schuyler Chafee at this point. Even if I really focus on him he looks tall and lean and patrician even though I know for a fact he's a squat guy wearing a flesh mask that doesn't fit right and has to be pretty putrid by now. Anyway, Chafee came up to my desk and said "Another honcho coming up from corporate we all have lunch. Where is Jenkins at?"
"He phoned and said he was under the weather, skipper," I smiled at him.
"Yeah he dream too good maybe," and he laughed and laughed which I found disconcerting.
I was on the phone with dad, telling him about my impending promotion and asking him if he thought I should get a new car, something sporty. He was going through my options, suggesting I might lease an Audi or something, when the door flew open and the honcho from corporate was standing there so I hung up in a hurry and started making sure my tie was straight and my monitor showed something work-related.
I could tell this guy was from corporate because, unlike Chafee, his flesh-mask was crooked and and saggy and distorted and smelled so foul that I saw people reaching for their garbage cans. Whatever, I lived in a Sigma Pi house for two years, the mask wasn't the worst thing I'd ever smelled mid-morning. Still, it was a pretty weird situation.
The man barged right back to Chafee's office and shut the door and we heard what sounded like very loud snorting and giggling and cackling and it reminded me of the first few lessons of that Rosetta Stone Chafee gave me to help me learn the native language of our new owners.
In a few minutes Chafee came out and introduced me to his buddy.
"Tyler, this is Saltonstall from corporate Saltonstall this is Tyler right hand man real go getter."
I offered Saltonstall my hand and he stared at it like I'd offered him a huge wad of wet clay. "Say, I was at school with some Saltonstalls. Maybe you're related."
"Skip Saltonstall," he said with some difficulty. The dude reeked. Also his face was distended and drooping and grotesque. Also I'd been at school with Skip Saltonstall which would explain why the face had been, in some unsettling way, familiar.
Lunch was largely uneventful. Usual corporate talk--maximize this, synergize that, spout a few platitudes ("You can't boil the ocean," I said, for example, at which point they'd shared a glanced and laughed) down a few glasses of bourbon. After a couple of glasses of Whistlepig I noticed Saltonstall looked more and more like my old buddy Skip, so I guess whiskey goggles aren't only useful for 2 AM last-keg's-tapped situations at the house.
Near the end of the lunch, Saltonstall noticed my Movado and complimented me on it. "Give watch I show you magic trick," he said.
I handed him my watch, smiling a little uneasily. Saltonstall covered it with a napkin and smiled at me. "Ready to see magic? Good." He then began to smash the watch against the table over and over like a monkey trying to smash a coconut or something. Grinning ear to ear he handed me the pieces of my Movado. "See? Magic!" Saltonstall and Chafee laughed and laughed. I tried to be a good sport, though I was miffed.
The rest of my day was uneventful. As I was packing up, Chafee clamped his hand around my shoulder in what I think he meant to be a friendly way although it chilled my skin and hurt like hell, and said "Corporate like you. You're going places real big shot right hand man," and then he laughed. "Now get outta here I got things to take care of."
Submitted March 31, 2015 at 07:43AM by SutcliffeCatering http://ift.tt/1FbGch8 nosleep
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