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My Supervisor
It was in the late fall of 1998, when I first met my supervisor, Miss Gisser. Judging her height without her awkward looking high heels, she appeared to be about four feet eleven inches tall and rugged as a farm wooden fence pole. I began to imagine her to be forceful and convincing, with a temperament of a ballistic missile. Direct with her approach, I could see her phony, bleached blond hair, which matched the stench of her moldy perfume. When she finally left that late morning, she imbedded a lasting impression of one with a “Napoleon syndrome attitude”.
For example, Miss Gisser put forth an entirely different approach with our performance review, which resembled a carefully detailed masterful plan of Hitler’s march to chaos. She said this is our new vision for the next ten years, as she boldly declare...
It was in the late fall of 1998, when I first met my supervisor, Miss Gisser. Judging her height without her awkward looking high heels, she appeared to be about four feet eleven inches tall and rugged as a farm wooden fence pole. I began to imagine her to be forceful and convincing, with a temperament of a ballistic missile. Direct with her approach, I could see her phony, bleached blond hair, which matched the stench of her moldy perfume. When she finally left that late morning, she imbedded a lasting impression of one with a “Napoleon syndrome attitude”.
For example, Miss Gisser put forth an entirely different approach with our performance review, which resembled a carefully detailed masterful plan of Hitler’s march to chaos. She said this is our new vision for the next ten years, as she boldly declare...
Posted by: Novelett Roberts
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