Читать книгу 96 Rocks - Ron Ph.D Hummer - Страница 8

If it wasn’t for the fact that I could do voiceovers for commercials after work and during lunch, Joan muttered, I would have walked away from that son of a bitch after the first month. She pressed her lips together, shaking her head. Arrogant rotten bastard.

She considered the idea of confronting him about his behavior, voted against it. The one time she did, his answer would be you stated in your resume that you did this kind of work before. Do the work right and I won’t have to yell at you.

Joan wiped a tear from her eye, staring at the advertisement for 96 Rocks. She hit the print button, walked over to the copy machine and saw that the page came out and black ink was all over the page.

She turned, went over to the closet, opened the door. She reached for the box which had the toner bottles inside, then closed the door.

“Joan,” Herman said over her shoulder, did you print out the ad yet?”

Joan looked at Herman, noticed that his brown hair receded and as a result of his refusal to wear a hat or a cap, the top of his head and forehead had black spots that were the size of dots and freckles. He was shorter than Joan, about 5-4, thin, a fact his gray suit and built up shoulders failed to conceal.

“The machine was out of toner. I’m getting the new one now.”

He watched her go over, opened the box. She took the gray bottle, looked at it against the machine.

“Well?” he said.

“I don’t know how to put the toner in the machine.”

“Jesus Christ. Can’t you do anything? I’ll get Ron.”

Go to hell, Joan thought. Herman was back with Ron. He walked over to the machine, rubbing his blonde mustache with his forefinger. “What’s the problem?”

“Not sure how to put the toner in the machine.”

“That’s because this takes a toner cartridge.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Why do you have that bottle?” Ron inquired.

“I got a call from someone who said that they were our copy supplier and asked me if we need more toner bottles. I didn’t see a reason why we shouldn’t have more in case we run out so I ordered them.”

“Oh my God,” Ron said.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” Herman yelled.

“What, I don’t understand,” Joan said.

“Those people are copy pirates,” Ron said. “They’re scam artists. They call offices all the time and sell them junk that doesn’t work with the machine.”

“How much was all that?” Herman screamed.

“$200,” Joan said.

“I’ll go down to accounting and tell Joe. Hopefully, we can stop the check before it’s too late.”

“What are you, an idiot or something,” Herman yelled.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know. You’re supposed to hang up on those people. I thought you did this kind of work before. I thought that you dealt with these people in the past.”

“I never heard of this.”

“Unbelievable,” Herman shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “You’re not concentrating on your work and now you cost this company over $200.”

“Ron said he could still stop the check.”

“And that will cost us $10. That’s it. I don’t want you doing anymore voiceovers until you get your act together.”

“Mr. Pearson.”

“Do you understand me?”

“I do it on my own time.”

“And it’s interfering with your work.”

“I enjoy doing it.”

“Don’t you argue with me,” Herman shouted. “I’m going down to Doris right now and tell her that you’re not to do anymore voiceovers until I see some improvement in your work.” He turned and walked towards Doris’s office.