Let's just take the colon out then its good.

The building super from my last job lives in my neighborhood and hangs out at the OTB which is directly next to my apartment. He is a puerto rican, probably went to jail and likes to ogle my butt whenever I walk past him.

He informed me yesterday that the guy who replaced me just left.

"no one stays there long, huh?"

"um yeah, he's a good boss but its a lot of work"

Then the old building super asked me where I currently worked and I got scared because I really don't need a stalker at this point in my life so I told him that I had to run.

That was the best diplomatic answer that I could give without giving away how unbelievably unhappy I was there.

I hated all of them. They thought I was weird. I thought that they were egotistical and mean.

I needed a medium where my weirdness came off as quirkyness. I was totally out of place there.

The guy that replaced me was named something South Asian but they "anglo-fied" his name to something like Paul.

I am sure that he hated them for that. He smelled like shit anyway.

***************

Torturious Tasks for a Junior Publicist/Office Manager/Internship Supervisor/Executive Assistant

-Forced to supervise a group of 14 snotty spoiled interns by my third day having had no prior leadership experience and having poor direction from my boss.

"um, do you have a blog called YUMMICOCO?" asked one of the snots after having blogged about a party in which I divulged secret stupid info about the snots and a publicist who plagerizes.

-Forced to supervise the publicists who had no respect for my boss having had no experience as a publicist which in turn made them not respect me.

"respect is earned" I was told.

-Forced to rat out publicists over the phone to my boss who was at Soho House or at a television shoot in front of the publicists.

-Forced to track down Dolph Lundgren to invite him to a party.

"um, does so and so still represent Dolph Lundgren. We would like to invite him to an all expense paid trip to Toronto."

I ran into a former intern snot- turned- hired junior publicist- turned fired incompetent.

She's fat fag hag with good fashion sense that had the nerve to ask me for my business card this past Friday in Hell's Kitchen.

"look me up" i replied

Bitch.

My boss was a devil that drove a vespa but he wasn't all that bad. I survived. I learned a lot. I got the fuck out of there and landed a better job.