In/unsecure

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My phone rang just after midnight.   My office number of all things, was on the screen.

“Mmmm’hello?”  *blink, blink*

“This is the police.  We’re in your office.”

“Goodness,” I said.  Then, “Lola?”

“No.  The police.  There was an unsecured door, and we have your number listed to call.”

Nonononononono, I thought to myself.  Please do NOT tell me I left something unlocked.  Nonononono, not today of all the almost 1400 days I’ve worked there.  Not today, the day I asked my boss to consider me for more responsibility.  (And money.)  This can’t be happening.  A door unlocked on thousands of dollars of inventory, a door unlocked for a disgruntled employee of the former incarnation of the company.

The policeman on the line and I tried to walk through all the possible problems with the door but we couldn’t figure out why it wasn’t latching.  Finally, the CEO was called in, while I hung up and lay in bed imagining my life as an unemployed woman.  Promotion?  After I made a mistake that involves the police, and our CEO being woken up and called in at this ungodly hour?  I’d be lucky if I still had a job in the morning, even if nothing had been stolen.

I hardly slept, and drove into work with a sense of dread.  I found the operations guy and my boss and asked “Did we figure out what happened with the door?”

Turns out it was an alarm problem.  I.E., not my problem.  Not my mistake.  Have you ever wanted to puke from relief?  I was that happy.  And then, something even better happened.  I went back to my desk and there was this note.

I’m going to frame this.

When I showed to my boss, he laughed and then he asked, “Hey.  Why do the cops have YOUR number anyway?”

Between you, me and the internet, I have no idea.  I don’t even give my real number on the company directory.   But to my boss, I just smiled and winked.  He’d better give me that promotion now.  I’ve, apparently, got connections.

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4 responses »

  1. Pingback: In Pictures. « Valancy Jane

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