“A Pale Green Mermaid With Irridescent Scales And White Feathered Wings Blog“
MICRO – MOO
Theresa pressed the final disconnect on her five way conference call. She sipped the recently delivered mocha-lime frappe.
“Miss Upland.”
Turning she saw Featherstone. Leland Featherstone. The big cheese. The boss of bosses. She stared at him with her mouth agape.
” Wipe that froth off your lips Miss Upland. I want to talk to you in my office. Now!” He turned knocking over a freshly alphabetized set of files.
Theresa gazed at his departing figure and decided to take another sip making sure just a fluff of froth remained on her lip. She stood up, straightened her satin plum suit and walked slowly to Mr. Featherstone’s green office door.
Mr. Featherstone’s office was located at the end of a yellow hallway where, periodically, red overhead light fixtures cascaded pools of pale mauve fluorescent light. Her orange fake snakeskin boots clicked their way, Armageddon like , to her destiny. Walking swiftly she tripped, rip went the edge of her skirt which had attached itself to the wall – her body continued its tumultuous trajectory, finally slamming against Mr. Featherstone’s office door.
The door made a small creak,then drifted open. Theresa peered around the corner as she pulled up the netting of her fuchsia colored fishnet stockings.
Mr. Featherstone glanced back at her. She straightened her skirt and focused her discombobulation.
” You really need to fix that loose piece of tile ,” she said staring at the well polished gleaming floor.
” Close the door Miss Upland, and try not to cause anymore destruction.”
Theresa pulled the gold knob snapping the door behind her. Mr. Featherstone absentmindedly gestured to the purple chair opposite his grey desk.
” As you know Miss Upland.”
” Ms. Upland, if you please.”
” Let’s not start that again… now, there has been some, how shall I say this…”
” Please be frank Mr Featherstone,” said Theresa still adjusting her homemade couture.
“Allright, Mr. Shaumbaum believes you have been pilfering Micro- moos.”
” Micro- who?” Theresa said moving uncomfortably in her chair.
” Micro- moos.” Mr Feathertone said abruptly.
” You are going to have to be clearer – please, relate to me the whole allegation.”
” Mr. Shaumbaum has let me know we have a deficit, a rather large one of Micro-moos…the creamer packets…in the staff kitchen.” He blurted.
” Oh.”
” He has made an allegation and I must respond. Now, we cannot let this fester, first a moo then a…”
” But Mr. Featherstone, I don’t even use Micro-moos as you call them, I send out for my…”
” Now Miss Upland, an accusation has been officially and as I said, made by a credible source and I as supervisor must respond. So you are, as of today, on restricted access to the Micro-moo container – until – we see if the drain continues.”
” But…”
” Dismissed Miss Upland.”
She reminded herself of her new motto, “Do not fight stupid fights”, so she shrugged her shoulders and said. ” I reiterate I am Micro-moo free.”
Mr Featherstone waved her off.
She closed the door behind her mumbling, ” The indignities that one must endure to earn a paltry paycheck.” She was determined not to allow this Micro-moo gate incident to cast a cloud over what was otherwise a minimally annoying day.
She clicked back down the hallway.
“Pssst…Theresa…Pssst.” The office door of Henrietta Bogel, executive assistant, was halfway open. A hand gestured for Theresa to come inside. The beckoning finger clutched in its palm a cluster of Micro-moos.
She stopped, looking side to side, thinking – I don’t want to get further involved in this Micro-moo gate, but she was intrigued. She straightened her jacket and walked inside.
It was Henrietta attached to those Micro-moos. ” Shhhh. ” Henrietta said, pressing her face inches from Theresa’s chin. ” They suspect you? Good, by the time they figure out what is happening I’ll be in South America.”
” Henrietta what is all of this about you don’t even drink coffee, if I remember correctly.”
” Forget that, It is superfluous, don’t you understand – don’t you see?”
” Henrietta…”
” It is the principal of the thing. I’ve been here for thirty years yet , after my retirement party I received a notice – I wasn’t even told in person. ” Henrietta opened the drawer of her desk file cabinet and tossed the creamers in. Theresa watched as she struggled to close the drawer, jamming the edges of the moos behind the metal plate, quickly she sealed the drawer with tape.
” So you are the one…” Theresa held the side of her forehead.
” Clam up Upland, and listen. I will be getting eighty percent of my pension – eighty percent.”
” But Henrietta, how are non dairy creamers involved in this?”
” I am going to drive Featherstone crazy. I have two weeks left. I am striking back. No, I say no Micro-moos will be available for Featherstone’s morning cup of java, not while I am still here.” Henrietta thrust her freckled finger in the air. ” Power to the…”
Theresa slinked around Henrietta and quickly exited.
As she walked down the hallway she thought about life, death and the meaning of Micro-moos.
THE END
PEACE
BJHC