I am not sure if I have pissed off the gods of reception or what, but life has just gotten worse. They took that picture of the Best Old Puffy Green Receptionist and Her Boss and blew it up into a 4-foot banner and posterboard!
Imagine the worst picture ever taken of you - oops, I forgot about 7th grade! Okay, take the second-worst picture ever taken of you and blow it up so big that even your dermatologist wouldn't recognize those pores! And it's not like they airbrush it or anything. I can't go into work on Monday; I can't spend a week or more staring at myself made broader than a barn.
I wonder what kind of offering one can make to appease the gods of reception. I would be more than happy to sacrifice a phone line or two, burn a few pages of messages while I chant, "I will answer all calls by the second ring. I will answer all calls..."
On the other hand, begging might just piss them off more. I could wake up to find myself plastered on a billboard. No wait, that sounds like I am drunk on a billboard and I've promised my kids never to be found that way again. I might find my picture plastered on a billboard.
I'd better pass on the sacrifice. It'd be awful to find out just how vengeful the reception gods can be.
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