Don’t kid yourself, jerk

The first thing I hear her say is, “hey, if one of these DVDs breaks because of my shipping, I’m fired.” The Fedex agent assured her that the bubble wrap twice over was enough and she settled into taping.

The Fedex agent asked her if she had a corporate account at work and she replied, “I wished I worked at a company. I am a personal assistant for a ruthless bastard. He barely gives me a company credit card. He mistreats me and makes me cry for sport.” She had offered this up as she was pasting a huge FROM sign to the box with her boss’s name and studio as the sender.

The college student behind me leaned over, read the label and told the rest of us the name of the jerk and his company. Now a group of us know about you, Jeffrey. And this is the Fedex/Kinkos hub in the heart of Studio City, California. Ventura and Laurel Canyon, where everyone converges in your business.

Yikes.

Don’t think that work is a bully pulput, and that no one will ever know how you treat others behind closed doors. Eventually, you’ll get a note like this pasted to your front door – and have to run your store by yourself.
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