Nikki Talks Trash (and Recycling)
Recycling Nikki has a corner office. It happened because Nikki is darn tooting good at what she does (she’s a loan processor – don’t ask me what that means) and everybody at the office kept pestering her with questions all day long. “Hey Nikki, blah blah blah loan blah blah loan?” And being the sweet lady she is, she’d answer. Then the entire state of Texas decided to buy new houses, all in the same three-month span of time, and Nikki simply didn’t have time to answer all the questions. She had work to do, people!
And that’s why the Bosses gave Nikki a corner office. On the surface, it’s like, “Here you go, Nikki. We value you and think you’ve earned this.” But it’s really like, “Okay everybody, let’s leave Nikki alone. Okay now really, give Nikki some space; she’s really busy,” and the rest of us are like, “Heck no! We love Nikki!” and they’re all like, “Oh yeah? OH YEAH? Nikki gets her own office now! As a matter of fact, she gets the Boss’s office! Woo HA HA HA!” James moved his things three doors down, and now Nikki sits in the swanky spot. If you think about it, it’s kind of genius. People are still allowed to ask Nikki questions, but first they must ask themselves, “Do I want to ask Nikki a question so badly that I’ll get up from my chair or exercise ball and walk to her office?”
It really filters things out.
I miss Nikki though. Because they haven’t given me my own corner office (yet – I mean, it’s probably going to happen any day now) I don’t get to see her much anymore. Sure, I catch her pilfering through the recycling bin every once in a while and heating up the soup she brings for lunch every day of her life, but other than that, she’s become a mystery to me. That’s why I’m sitting in her corner office today. Well, that, and I want to get a feel for it since I plan to have my own corner office someday.
(Nikki is psycho-crazy about not having her picture made unless she’s straightened her hair, so in efforts to avoid her wrath, I took a picture of her empty chair.)
Because I wasn’t supposed to be bothering Nikki, I just sat quietly and let her talk to me when she wanted. Y’all, the lady is hysterical. Somebody needs to give her a talk show. She wouldn’t need to be the host because she’s kind of shy, but she should be the guy who plays the drums and banters with the host, except she’d be a lady. I could be the host.
Below, some of Nikki’s thoughts…
On the recycling program she started in the office:
“People are putting their Sweet N Low packets in there. I get it; it’s paper, but, really?”
On a cute, skinny lady she used to work with that was nasty:
“You’re cute, you’re skinny, shut up! What more do you need?”
Again, on the recycling:
“And people put their dirty napkins in there, too. I do understand it’s paper, but I don’t need your dirty napkins.”
On USDA loans (don’t ask me what those are):
“Pfshh!”
On a client who continues to send some pages of their bank statements but not all pages after Nikki has asked them three times for every page:
“You want to be all, ‘Really!? I asked you three times!’ But you can’t, you have to call and be all, ‘Hiii, Sorry to bother youuu, but…’”
On self-employed borrowers who make lots of money but write it all off on their taxes so that it looks like they don’t make lots of money and thus, cannot be approved for a huge loan:
“They cry, ‘But we make a lot of money!’ Well, you shoulda told the government that you make a lot of money. I say that to myself, and then I send an email that says it nicer.”
On the state of our kitchen (it’s still dirty):
“I’m noticing they’re having a hard time with the clean and dirty sign on the dishwasher. And I’m like, oh this is not hard, people.”
On the fact that the Bosses provide lunch meat and bread and fruit for the office:
“We’re spoiled here. They even buy us hummus!”
It’s true. It’s kind of like mortgage heaven here (except for the dirty kitchen).
Okay folks, you all have a fine weekend (and purdy please subscribe to my blog on the right) and I’m off to purchase Nikki a drum set so we can take this show on the road.
Just the Assistant 