Wahlburger’s & Personal Assistants & Things That Don’t Go Together
TODAY’S BREW: Chocolate Capuccino. Not actual capuccino. Capuccino flavored.
So, I’m watching this episode of Wahlburgers, because naturally, I am a Burger Broad, and I love burgers. Side note: Mark Wahlberg used to work out at my gym. Also, it’s right around our stomping ground, just about a half hour away in Hingham, where I used to work as a personal assistant to an artist and local businesswoman, as well as a long time friend.
Yeah, that’s right. I was a personal assistant. Imagine that.
Paul Wahlberg was forced into getting an assistant on the show, and the poor girl did a lot of what I felt like I did a lot of in that position, too. “Standing around like a weirdo.”
When you are a personal assistant, your mind wanders often to what you would have your own personal assistant do. In the event that I become a rich douchebag, by the way, this job as my assistant is already promised out to one Jennifer Wesson, my former co-manager at Victoria’s Secret. This has been set in stone for years. This is the same Jenn that is the basis for Jenniveve in RUNNING HOME.
Being an assistant was pretty kick ass. My employer hated food shopping. So I did it. She had a closet that had a life of its own, it just erupted in clothing heaps and dry cleaning bags and shoes and I would spend countless hours in there organizing for her. I loved this, by the way. Loved it.
But if I had an assistant? That poor thing would be going to the post office. And the bank. I hate that shit.
My assistant would be getting me so much food, it would basically be me, getting fatter by the second, handing cash to this assistant every half hour, and seeing what else they could bring me.
More things I would have my assistant do:
- Drink on the job. I have a solid belief that most jobs are performed just a little bit better with one beer in you.
- Claim I have a strange disease. This would get us into restaurants faster and get me better seats at sporting events.
- Cry in public. I would maybe just pinch her now and then so she would tear up, and I could be seen comforting her. “That Julie Hutchings is a real hero.” You’d hear that everywhere.
- Go the the movies with me. Like once a week, seriously.
- Pair the clean socks out of the laundry. Come on, I’m a fucking hero now, and I still have to do this?
- Wear knee pads. Because guess what, assistant girl? You’re playing Legos a lot and you’re probably going to get kicked in the knees by Sam a lot.
- Dig through Chuck Wendig’s trash. I need a day off now and then. The raccoons just don’t do the job they used to.
- Force me to get my hair cut. I will do anything to avoid getting my hair cut, because it is SO. FUCKING. BORING. Even though Kristen does it, and we drink, and I’m in my pajamas, I hate getting it done. The dull is too much.
- Play air hockey with me. All the time. We’d do this to relieve stress probably daily, and then once a week there would be drunk dodgeball tournaments. The assistant of course would have to arrange the details.
- Bring coffee to random people. This is something I want to do, just bring cups of coffee to people at shitty jobs. People I don’t even know. Now I can have an employee in her shitty job bring these coffees to people in their shitty jobs, and say it was from me, the author of RUNNING HOME. Hero points–Boom.
I hope we all have the opportunity to have an assistant for a week. In all seriousness, I would really just go out of my way to make it the most pleasant, fulfilling time I could. I’d have her do stuff I do with my family, and make her wear her pajamas. She’d get a tiara to wear around “the office” which is “my apartment.” And I would get to write, like, a book a second.
What kind of boss would you be in this situation? Tell me the things you hate to do.