Archive for the 'Horror Stories' Category

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belated halloween horror story

Published on November 4, 2009 in Holidays and Horror Stories. 0 Comments Tags: , .

The office manager at my company loves to do corny decorations for holidays. This year she did a whole Halloween thing with orange streamers and cutouts of ghosts and stuff. In the break room, there were a whole bunch of paper tombstones on the wall. My friend and I got a sharpie and wrote names of people who got laid off this year on all the tombstones. When my boss saw it, he was REALLY MAD. We all had to go to this big meeting where he and the office manager yelled at us and told us how us writing names of laidoff people on the tombstones was bad for morale. Funny, I thought actually laying people off was the part that was bad for morale.

- Submitted by Aaron, New York City

horror story, briefly

Published on September 18, 2009 in Horror Stories. 0 Comments Tags: .

My boss. Asked for directions. To a meeting. Taking place across the street. !!!!!!!!

- Submitted by Helena, New York City

korean pop stars have to fetch snacks, too

Published on September 9, 2009 in Horror Stories and Interns. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , .

Fashion is a notoriously competitive field to break into – that’s why people are still willing to work for crazy bosses like Kelly Cutrone and Anna Wintour. However, it may be so competitive that even famous and/or rich people have to do grunt work. First, Tallulah Willis toiled away as an intern guest of the editors at Harper’s Bazaar instead of simply being handed a job or a column. Now, the New York Times reports that even famous Korean pop stars still have to start at the bottom:

Let us take the example of Sang A Im-Propp, who was a pop star in Korea before she decided, while on a business trip to New York, that she wanted to be in fashion. This was nearly a decade ago, and Ms. Im-Propp’s command of English was tenuous, but she enrolled at Parsons and in short order found herself an internship with Victoria Bartlett, a noted stylist and designer whom she admired and hoped would introduce her to the glamorous world of design. Instead, Ms. Im-Propp found it difficult to understand Ms. Bartlett’s heavy British accent, and at first she thought she had misunderstood just what Ms. Bartlett was asking her to do. Get cupcakes?

Not just any cupcakes, but the glossy butter-cream confections from the Cupcake Cafe, which is a four-block crosstown walk from Ms. Bartlett’s studio through the dodgy garment district, and it was freezing outside.

“It made me cry a lot,” Ms. Im-Propp said. “Vicky is an amazing artist, but she can be difficult.”

Could it be that fashion is actually becoming a great equalizer? I’d be a lot less demoralized about having to fetch coffee if the other lackey fetching coffee was a pop star. I’m just saying.

author teaches assistant a ‘lesson’

Published on September 9, 2009 in Horror Stories. 0 Comments Tags: , .

Laurie Graff, author of the novel The Shiksa Syndrome, held a reading and book signing at a Manhattan Barnes & Noble recently. Her assistant, an NYU student, was in tow. A spy tells STA:

A B&N employee offered to put those “autographed copy” stickers on a couple copies of the book while Laurie was signing. But Laurie made a big show about how it *had* to be her assistant putting the stickers on the book. “She needs to learn the value of hard work,” Laurie said about her sad, scared looking assistant.

Wow, I had no idea putting stickers on books was considered hard work! I guess this means that getting up, putting on clothes, and turning on my computer every morning counts as manual labor. I wish that were true, because I’d be in better shape.

courteney’s assistant buys lice combs

Published on September 8, 2009 in Celebrity Assistant Soapbox and Horror Stories. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , .

Courteney Cox has a new show (the horrifyingly named Cougar Town), and that means she’s doing a whole slew of interviews to promote it. Her interview in the L.A. Times is a pretty classic example of how celebrities try to look endearing. Those steps are below, with appropriate corresponding Cox quotes.

1. Tell some anecdote about how ‘normal’ you are, with bonus points if it relates to being a mom.

“Recently my daughter had lice. OK? Wasn’t fun. Became a big outbreak in the house.”

2. Blame paparazzi and/or “the media” for getting in the way of you trying to be all normal all the time.

When Cox went on a non-picturesque errand to buy anti-lice nit combs at Hair Fairies, a.k.a. “The Head Lice Helpers,” three paparazzi were accompanying her.

3. End by reminding everyone how not normal you are, thus revealing your complete lack of perspective.

“So I stayed in the car, and I called up my assistant, and I said, ‘Dude, I can’t get out of the car.’ So that’s the only problem.”

Great try, Courteney! However, making your assistant buy lice combs for your kid is on par with making him or her (I consider using the word “dude” gender-neutral) take your kid on a tour of the sewer. Also… when you referred to that lice “outbreak” earlier, who exactly were you talking about? Because I know you don’t have any other kids, so was it you who also got lice? The nanny? Or perhaps … the assistant?

horror story: in plane sight

Published on August 31, 2009 in Horror Stories. 0 Comments Tags: .

When I first met my boss, Miranda Priestly 2.0, her voice was as soothing as a bubbling brook that could calm the most uptight of people. Seriously, if you were on a flight being hijacked by terrorists and you happen to be sitting next to MP II, you’d actually be glad to be there. Despite her criminal dress sense but never being incarcerated, (yet! – do read on), Miranda came across as a soft and nurturing friend. However, as the weeks went by, in my new employ as her executive assistant, the varnish soon wore thin, as a rather acidulous undercurrent became apparent.

The awakening came one morning, after I had just received a phone call from a dear friend, inviting me to meet her and her husband in Europe for the summer, which incidentally, was in seven months’ time – plenty of time to process my leave application and for MP II to hire a temp to cover my position. Feeling a mixture of relief and reward, as well as a damn good reason to travel overseas, I walked with a little spring in my step to MP II’s office, whilst watching the ink dry on my application for time off.

Her immediate reply was, “Oh, that’s wonderful”. Within a microsecond I was envisioning dusting off the suitcase and requesting my seat allocation on-line. A further microsecond later, the clincher came, “but I can’t let you go, as we have the new CEO starting with us at that time!”, as she exhaled. Feeling pangs of disappointment and flattery, that Miranda would want me around to welcome the new CEO, I resided myself to the fact that I would probably have to wait another year or so, to meet my friends in some other cosmopolitan city in the world.

Being her only assistant, I had access to her E-Mails and of course needed to read them, to keep her on track with the daily banter of the other executives and the many confidential issues to hand.

Whilst toiling through a stack of paper that MP II had placed in my In tray and trying to eat lunch at the same time, an E-Mail punctuated my In Box with the subject heading of “Flights”. I had booked Miranda on some interstate flights, for a conference that she was to speak at in the coming weeks. However, to my absolute shock and disbelief, the contents of the E-Mail did not reveal the destination of Los Angeles, but Paris!!!. The piece de resistance came when I read the dates, which were exactly the same as the ones I had requested earlier that month. Basically, Miranda had gone and booked exactly the same flights as I was not allowed to book, due to her supposed need of me in the office at that time.

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interviewee discovers sexism still exists

Published on August 11, 2009 in Horror Stories. 0 Comments Tags: , , , .

I love Mad Men. However, as a feminist, there are definitely some things about the show that I find difficult to watch. The show is being historically accurate, and they do a great job showing the layers of all their characters, but having a 21st century mindset makes some scenes incredibly difficult to endure – the scene where some of the guys in the office chase down a secretary to see what color underwear she has on, for example, or the one where Betty’s psychologist reports on the details of her therapy session to her husband. Today, The Frisky has a first-person account from a woman who went on a job interview and found herself seemingly transported back into the Mad Men era, without any of the awesome clothes or Joan Holloway:

  • I was informed the “girl” they let go was terminated because she was “too professional in social settings and didn’t know when to turn it on and when to turn it off.” I nodded, working through the possible implications of that, as he continued. “I mean, if you are the sort of girl who, when you are out with a client, and he reaches over and puts his hand on your knee—well, if that sort of thing is really going to offend you, then this isn’t the right job for you.” Ahh, so that is what he meant. Fabulous.
  • I was treated to a 10-minute lecture on “how to do business.” This included choice phrases like, “I’m gonna let you in on a secret, little lady,” and, “The real deals get made during social hour with a few drinks and some buttons undone.”

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guest post horror story: you want reservations where?!

Published on June 30, 2009 in Guest Post and Horror Stories. 0 Comments Tags: , .

Heather here with another horror story. I can so relate to this. What is it about executives that they always want to go to the place where you can’t get a reservation, at the time all the tables are full, tomorrow?

My company is based in London. Sometimes the big shots come over and I have to assist them on top of everyone else I do everything for. I am sure you can imagine what a delight this is. They can’t ever just ask for simple things like lunch reservations at Bobby Van’s. It is always something crazy like a helicopter at a time when there are no helicopters going where they want to go. Of course they think this is the simplest task in the world.

One day I got a call from an assistant in London looking for help with a dinner reservation. She said the phone number didn’t work and she thought she might be dialing it wrong because it just rang and rang. I said, “Sure, I can call them no problem.” HA. It turned out to be a huge pain in my ass.

I called the restaurant multiple times and it rang and rang. I decided to google it because she must have had the number wrong. Why on earth would The Waverly Inn not have a working phone? I had no idea that this was the most exclusive restaurant in New York, owned by Graydon Carter, the Editor-in-Chief of Vanity Fair. It was part of their “charm” to only get reservations if you knew someone or had the rumored secret reservation line.

I emailed the London assistant to let her know the situation in hopes that she would help me out with this ridiculous task. I had no luck. I did everything I could think of to try and get a reservation. I asked all the people in the office if they knew anyone who could get us a reservation or if they knew the secret number. They just laughed at me and said good luck. I asked all my friends with the same results. After more research I found that you might be able to get a reservation for a month in advance if you actually went to the restaurant. I didn’t have that much time but I figured it was worth a try. Their entrance is hidden too, of course, but I made plans to go down there myself and beg if I had to.

I informed Big Shot and his assistant of my plan and let them know I couldn’t make any guarantees. Just before I left the office I got an email from Big Shot saying he would do it himself. Of course, only after I had spent an entire week trying to solve this problem he would decide to do it himself.

I should have known that “doing it himself” meant calling one of his big shot friends and getting his assistant to do it for him. This assistant worked for a company that was a client of Vanity Fair had the secret rumored reservation number so she only had to pick up the phone and place the reservation. No pain involved. I decided to be happy it was done and I didn’t have to deal with it anymore.

The day after his dinner Big Shot asked me to send flowers to the assistant who got him the reservation. I couldn’t believe after all my hard work and determination, when his own assistant gave up that, he would not only send flowers to someone else but make me do it. How’s that for a smack in the face?

- Submitted by Ann

guest post horror story: bed buddies

Published on June 25, 2009 in Guest Post and Horror Stories. 0 Comments Tags: , .

Heather here. As I said Tuesday, I am launching a new blog crackoutblackout.com with my friend Leah today. A Crackout Blackout is when someone has a few too many drinks and does hilarious things that they might forget. Their friends will remember however and remind them later while laughing at them. Our blog shares those hilarious stories with you. I have chosen to share this work Christmas party horror story today. Stop by our site and say hello or follow us on twitter @crkoutblkout.

A few years ago I went to the company fancy dress Christmas party in London. I got sick on the way there and had to take a Claritin after we landed. I ran around the city all afternoon before the party and realized I hadn’t eaten since the middle of the night before on the plane. I had no idea this would turn out to be a horrible mistake.

I must say partying with the Brits is the best. They love to drink and know how to have a good time. We arrived at the party and immediately got to drinking. I had one glass of champagne and quickly moved on to glass number two followed soon after by an endless supply of red and white wine with dinner. I never saw the bottom of either glass.

We went back to the hotel at 2:30 AM after clubbing with one of the Brits in tow where we drank ourselves silly in Jessica’s room. The next thing I knew it was morning and bottles were everywhere. “How did I end up in frat house?” I wondered. Then I realized I was not in a frat house… I was passed out cold in Jessica’s bed. And she was right next to me.

I said without thinking, “Oh no, I didn’t make it back to my room?” I didn’t expect a response but Jessica said sheepishly, “No, you fell asleep and we couldn’t wake you up.”

That was my cue to leave. I went back to my room mortified. On the way I noticed I had hot pink dye on my cheek and collar bone from someone’s feather boa that I had passed out wearing. Finally in my room, I noticed something was different. Someone had slept in the other bed. Then I noticed the towels in the bathroom were everywhere. I wondered where Goldilocks was and then I went back to sleep in my own bed.

A little while later, I tried to scrub the dye off my cheek with no success when I realized it could be disguised with blush. I took some smartly packed Advil and made my way into the office extremely late, hung-over and without a voice.

Once there, I tracked down Jane, the Brit who took us to the club. “Um, what happened last night?” I asked a few times until she understood my squeaking. The look on her face told me I wasn’t getting the whole story. At least not from her.

“Well, we went to a club after the party was over. I’m surprised they didn’t kick us out. Some of the guys picked up Jessica and were holding her up over their heads. We were pretty wild,” said Jane. Either she didn’t remember anything else or she wasn’t telling me the rest.

Once I found Jessica I got some more information. I made out with an Indian guy at the club and the guys had raided everyone’s mini bars once we got back to the hotel. Turns out the guy I was sitting a few computers away from had slept in my room when he finally remembered my room number at 6:30 AM and they couldn’t wake me. I thought maybe my mini bar was safe since they didn’t know my room number but I found out they went through it once the mystery of my room number was solved.

I still don’t know all the events of the evening but most of the company knows I slept in my female colleagues bed. Now that is what I call a successful company Christmas party.

- Submitted by Anonymous

guest post horror story: TLC

Published on June 23, 2009 in Guest Post and Horror Stories. 0 Comments Tags: , .

Heather here. I don’t know about you but I can’t stand doing personal errands for my boss. Hopefully your boss isn’t as unfeeling as this one.

My boss made me get his old briefcase fixed for him. I am really busy with actual work so personal errands really piss me off. I finally got around to boxing it up a few days ago when I read the description. “Old case but my favorite and a dependable road companion. Needs some TLC to bring back to life.” This was just too much.

I wanted to go sell it at my favorite vintage store and tell him it got lost in the mail. I am overworked, underpaid and falling apart. When am I going to get my TLC?

- Submitted by Helena, NY