Working Holiday

"Fran, come in my office.  Now!  Please."

The mere sound of Dorothy's voice fills me with chills.  I wonder if this is how a pig feels being lead to slaughter.

I finished the call I was on and went into her office.  She waved her hand, indicating to me that I should shut the door behind me.  Now I was really nervous.  Nothing good ever comes from Dorothy wanting the door closed behind me.

"You wanted to see me?"

She squinted her eyes as if she couldn't see me otherwise.  "Yes It has been determined that since you are the only one in your department who is single and has no kids -- "

"I doubt if I'm the only one."

"You're the only one.  As I was saying, it has been determined that since you are the only one in your department who is single and has no kids that you should work Thanksgiving and Christmas this year and, well, every year."

"Every year?"

"Oh, you'll be compensated with holiday pay at a rate of $10 dollars."

"Ten dollars an hour?"

Dorothy laughed.  "No, ten dollars a day extra."

"Oh, but -- "

"You can leave my office now.  You have customers waiting."

Dorothy waved her hand again, and I left her office feeling humiliated and angry all at once.  Who had determined I should work holidays?  Was it really HR like she implied or was it her?  I think it was her.  No, I know it was her. 

At lunch I went and bought a mirror with a stand.  I have it facing the door to Dorothy's office so just like she can watch me at all times now I can watch her.