Miss Fired

“Alexis, have a seat.”

“Ooh, is this about my raise?”

“Something like that. I wanted to talk to you about your performance.”

“Absolutely. I have been crazy busy with all the phones ringing and putting papers away. Like, filing them, I mean. It’s super hard work!”

“You’ve not answered the phone once in the last two weeks. There’s over two hundred unread messages.”

“Well, yeah. They’re mega depressing! ‘Oh, my cat sleeps all day, what do I do?’ Like, I’m not their therapist. Gross.”

“Alexis, this is a veterinary hospital. You are the receptionist. Your only duties are answering the phones and scheduling appointments. That’s it. You’ve done neither and — ”

“Um, hold up. Incorrect. I have scheduled like… a gazillionty appointments. There’s my emergency hair colouring with Christopher at noon, and that’s literally impossible because he’s booked forever years ahead. Oh, and brunch with the girls on Sunday at L’Haute Marchet and not even Queen Oprah herself can get in there.”

“None of that has anything to do with your job. Have you scheduled any checkups?”

“Checkup? Actually, I’ve been doing this pumpkin cleanse and I feel totes incredible. Like, I don’t even think I need to blink anymore — my eyes are just naturally glossy. Everyone’s always commenting on them.”

“That’s… that’s not how that works. Look, you fed Mr. Korbowitz’s schnauzer a Snickers bar!”

“I know! Thank you! Misty looked so sad with those eyes…”

“Dogs can’t eat chocolate. She nearly died! You’re lucky I found her hiding under my desk, the poor thing.”

“Uh, how was I supposed to know?”

“Alexis…”

“Hey, I covered for you! Your wife came by like three times and I told her you were not to be disturbed while Misty’s under your desk. So, yeah.”

“You did what?!”

“You’re welcome.”

“You’re fired.”

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