We got a new boss at work today, and he’s a bit of a weird guy. His name is Mitchel Scarn, and he’s just moved to Australia from somewhere in America that nobody’s ever heard of. Scranton or something. Apparently he used to manage a paper company there too, but honestly I don’t think this guy could manage a printer. He walked into the office with a guitar, strummed a few easy chords and kicked over a pot plant on purpose, then started singing about how we’re all going to be a big happy family. Then he called me Jim, and pointed to the guy across my desk and said, “You are Dwight now.”
I really hope we get that commercial glass tinting from Melbourne done before Thursday because Mr Scarn is planning a big meeting that he’s calling “safety training”. Whatever this guy thinks safety is, I don’t want any part of it. His idea of safely handling a knife is throwing it into the air and trying to catch it with his teeth (and no, he did not catch it). He’s been here less than one day and is talking about how he’ll rip up the carpet and knock half of the walls out. “Oh, a commercial decorative window would look great here,” he said, talking about the walls of his own office. Is this guy crazy? All that will set the company back several months on our budget plan.
I don’t get it. Is he trying to recreate his old staff and building? Why would you move to Australia at all if that’s the case? And why has he started a rivalry with one of the HR guys, who is the nicest person you’ll ever meet? He can’t even remember the man’s name right. Whenever Mr Scarn drops his coffee or misplaces a file he screams, “Dammit Toby!” even though the HR guy’s name is Terrance. I feel really bad for him. Terrance, I mean. I don’t feel bad for Mr Scarn. He can fly right back to Scranton for all I care.