stereotypical single woman

Mercedes, the office cat, decided that I needed to see a little cat ass this morning, so I’m sharing with everyone else. She’s been working hard all morning, avoiding telemarketers, and just crashed a few minutes ago. She’s our contact for all phone accounts, office supplies, health care decisions, energy options, recruiting, and yellow page advertising. In fact, it wasn’t too long ago we got a phone call that went a little along the lines of:

“John Hyatt and Associates, this is Sara”
“Hi Sara, can I talk to Mercedes?”
“Actually, she’s busy right now, can I take a message?”
(At this point she was in the litter box)
“Well, no message, do you know when I’ll be able to reach her?”
“Maybe later this afternoon, she usually takes long lunch break, and sometimes a nap afterward.”
Long pause.
( Mercedes has, at this point, come back into the office, settled into a chair in the middle of the room and started licking herself)
“Must be nice, my job doesn’t pay me to take a nap. Does she have voice mail?”
(he’s jealous of a cat?)
“Unfortunately no, but I can give her a message.”
“Well, yesterday I was talking to her about changing your phone service and I just wanted to touch base with her and see if she had had enough time to think about it.”
“Really?”
“She was interested, but she wanted a little time to think about it, and she wanted to check with John. Should I send a representative out to talk with them?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know her schedule, you really do need to ask her.”
“Is there someone else I can talk to?”
“No, you really do need to talk to Mercedes.”
“Does she have an email address I can send some information to?” (Oh, how I wish we could convince Mary to pay for an email acct for her)
“No, you need to talk to her.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do. When can I reach her?”
“Sometime later this afternoon. After she’s had her nap, her belly rubbed, and used her litter box.”
At that point he hung up.

It’s the kind of job that will wear a cat out.