My “colleague” (I use this word very very loosely) is nicknamed Lady Baat Po (八婆女士 I guess…) by yours truly. She is now, unwittingly, famous, sort of, on Twitter, through my frequent, if not regular, updates on her activities. Again, I am being audacious. Activities, ha! Speaking of which… I need to go and help myself to her browser history.
Back when she was hired, before I joined, she’d put something like Superior IT skills in her résumé. Don’t ask me, Your Honor, it’s only hearsay. From the guy who hired her. I brown-smelly-stuff you not. My former colleague, who now escaped to greener pastures (or, to stay local, 1,000 HK$-bill-oranger pastures), is a self admitted IT retard, which is why he needed an office manager who’d have mad skills to compensate for his deficiencies. nnnyesss… The system we use internally, a do-everything-except-coffee, insanely hideous, elephant-sized, brain turd of Cobolean proportions piece of software, does indeed require mad skillz. Certifiably mad. Entering an order requires prayers in 3 different languages – after consulting a 風水 master, spinning your chair clockwise three times, and promising Mommy to be good tonight – and still you have no control over whether the order will actually end up in you selling the client the product you wanted at the price you wanted, with the gross margin you wanted. I hear the lead coder for this crappolla maxima is now trying to swim in the harbor with extra-thick lead-sole ski boots on, hands tied behind his back, and an eel planted up his ass (a Chinese custom, don’t ask); and the publishing company’s managing director works for Mark 6. Or something.
Aaaaaaanyway. She’s superior AyeTee skills. Which is why she leaves her computer unlocked when she goes out for lunch (she turns off the screen, that’s her lock), and doesn’t log out from MSN and Hotmail. She does log out from the company VPN, but leaves Outlook on. Firefox, your browsing history is very useful. Thank you.
So. Show all history. 今日. Nyeessss. I’ve seen yesterday’s crop already. 基督, Christian, yada yada. She must’ve been a bad girl lately, and wants to compensate. Not gonna last long, that… Hmmm. I keep scrolling. Riiiight. Apparently she was trying to enter orders — not mine, she won’t do it — because she’s been very Christian today. Moving on… MSN. Hotmail, the usual crap, but less. Riiiight. Eh? Scroll back. Did I see the word dating? /me salivates. Christ on a bike! Saddle-less. No she didn’t!! Yupsies, babes, she did: She joined a Christian Dating Site! 一石二鳥 as they say. Be a good and a bad girl at the same time! Lord have mercy on the poor lambs who’ll cross her path.
So. Lady Baat Po comes back from lunch. It does offend my culinary and booze-guzzlery ethics to call these absences lunch, since, as far as I know — and I know already too much, aiyoh — her concept of feeding is best described in words that usually are best utilised when describing the mating habits of frogs: pile it on high and be quick about it. Dudine, any relationship between your food culture and mine are purely coincidental. She’s been away, lemme check, hmmm, 2 hours and 18 minutes. Close to record-breaking… I swear, one day she’s going to forget to come back. She always looks peevish when she comes back from her lunch follies: she knows she’s been a bad girl, and can’t face to look at me. Of course the burning gaze of very very thinly disguised hate and contempt I direct in her general direction is probably not helping either. Today she doesn’t have the fυcked-out-of-my-wits look she sometimes have, or the school-girl-in-love faraway eyes she sports once a month or so. Which is a f*^@#*(*&^%$*&^ing mercy because when she’s smitten with the new item of the week, she listens to music. Maudlin music.
Let me digress for a moment. Or scroll down. Like I care. Our dear Lady Baat Po likes music. A lot. Unfortunately the music (I need to stop using words so haphazardly) she enjoys is either of the religious variety — the We’re all so depressed, let’s go to Heaven right now sub-category — or, the civilian version of the same shit. Needless to say, I have made certain she would stop playing those emo sounds early. ZZ Top, I will never thank you enough. When all you got is a pea-shooter, and your adversary has a shotgun, deterrence works only one way. So Lady Baat Po brought/bought earphones to the office. I say brought/bought no really as an alternative, but more as a succession of events. She first brought some earphones from home, but after me and my friend Doctor Gerber had a quickie on the earphones, she bought new ones. I am giving these some decent half-life before they go nuclear too. Soon, my precious, soon.
18:57. That’s 6.57pm for you Anglos. LBP’s leaving, trying to chit-chat with me, using her 3.5 words of French. Oh yeah. That’s her new project — I suppose she thinks she’ll have better lunch argh bedtime nah career opportunities if she speaketh the language of the sexys. I AM NOT GOING TO TEACH YOU FRENCH, OR GAWD FORBID, FIX YOUR MISTAKES. Just like I remained silent and unhelpful when she ventured briefly (and to the detriment of her work) into wine studies, I’ll either stay mum, or will provide disconcertingly misleading help with her French studies. Caveat fuckingus emptor.