Princess has left the building.

Whenever someone leaves the company, they’re presented with the current sales brochure signed by everyone in the company. Since Princess was the primary author of this document, and was certainly sick of seeing it, I suggested we do something different: present her with the original input she inherited.

Unfortunately, in these going aways, Bat-Crazy Doris has to be involved.  Despite being in her late 50s, she’s unable to cope with non-routine.  Her modus operandi is to blow these situations out of proportion.  It’s very annoying.

For example, suppose I say want to use a left-handed toilet paper dispenser.  Most people will realize that I’m making this up.  Not Doris.   She’ll panic — because we don’t have any in stock or part numbers and it’s her job to order them and that’s just more work for her and oh my lord, I have to totally fucking freak out about this to my Vice President.  Her VP deals with this by lateraling over to mine who, usually, forwards an email thread.  When I walk into his office, about to ask what the hell, he gives the “Yeah, I know.  Just talk Doris down” shrug.

Doris’ freakage was caused by an exhausted supply of old brochures.  When I produced one, she parried with “The old one won’t fit into the new, svelte box.”  I had the audacity to demonstrate how it would if we defaced the standard packaging.  Slightly.

On a roll, I suggested we should run over the glossy with my truck a few times just to emphasize how large and festering the pile of content was that she inherited.

Big mistake.

You see, if there were ever a super power for “spreading unnecessary information,” Doris would be granted charter access to the Justice League as Gossip Woman.  (As in, “I just can’t stand Aquaman - he’s so lame!” )  She immediately mentioned my snarky comment to the VP of HR, who promptly came into my office to “clarify” that I was not slamming The Colossal Waste of Carbon because, you know, that Would Not Be The Right Thing.

So I toned it down.