“I don’t know how you do it!” Bob said as Julie entered her managers office late Friday afternoon. “You keep knocking it out of the park. Come in! Come in! Have a seat. I’m just trying to get some lunch in.”
“I can let you in on a little secret if you promise not to tell anyone?” Julie smiled as she closed the office door and took a seat at the small round table near the whiteboard.
Bob set his sandwich down, and wiped his mouth on the soiled napkin clutched tight in his hand. Since arriving at Bingo's Boutique he had steadily found less and less time to eat a proper lunch having taken on an ever increasing number of direct reports. What used to be an hour long one on one meeting with her boss every other week now had to be squeezed into 5-15 minute standup meetings, often with little more than a half hour advance notice.
“Go on” Bob said as he eyed the sweating ice tea in the paper cup from the sub shop that he routinely sent his assistant on a errand to retrieve him food. He picked it up and tried to find the straw with his open mouth.
“It’s not because I’m qualified” Julie said, lowering her voice in a mock conspiratorial tone.
Bob leaned in pausing mid sip from the cup. A drip of condensation glistened in the afternoon sun shining through the westward window. The bead of water slowly made it’s way down the large waxy surface and dangled from the bottom of the perforated edge twinkling and sparkling.
“It’s because I'm over-qualified” Julie cracked a wide grin as the water drop fell onto Bob's unguarded suit pant leg.