Waters has offered to check his Outlook calendar, as if that will make any sort of difference. You can just stand awkwardly behind her chair while it takes six minutes to load. "Oh look," said Waters, pointing to the words 'Private Appointment' blocked out from 12:00 p.m. to 1:00 p.m. "Let me use my psychic powers to tell you what that's supposed to mean."
It being lunch time, and Dickerson being in his early to mid-fifties, he may have either gone to Subway for an Italian BMT or to his proctologist for a colonoscopy. It's really just guesswork you annoying ignoramuses. Do you not see that Waters, 32, is trying to order something from Babies R Us right now?
"Take this morning," said Waters. "I slipped in real late and was kind of nervous, but then I realized that Carl was nowhere to be found. You think I was going to start asking questions?" Waters expressed a similar sentiment when Dickerson failed to show up to her mid-year performance evaluation after being mugged and left for dead.
"He ain't here, he ain't here," she added.
When pressed by co-workers for comment on Dickerson's morning whereabouts, Waters took into account her boss's eating habits and familial structure, surmising that he could have been off having a massive heart attack or possibly hosting an intervention for that loser son of his who interned here a few summers ago. But really, he may have just overslept. What does she have, a GPS on the guy?
Waters, who really doesn't have time for this, also warns of the futility and total stupidity of bothering to ask when Dickerson is expected to return from wherever it is that he went - particularly if she is entering timesheets or reviewing a take-out menu from Arby's. "I don't have to know where he is every second of the day, alright?" said Waters. "It's not like I'm his secre.....oh."
As of press time, Dickerson was spotted leaving Centerfolds Gentleman's Lounge on Route 20 and will not be returning to the office.
|Carl? You in there?|