“Penny, I simply had to let her go”.

“But Carol, whatever she did it can’t be that bad. This is the 21st Century - the naughties for god’s sake”.

“I don’t care what she did personally. But I had to put the company’s interests first”.

“Well? What was it”.

“Penny, don’t betray my trust if I tell you”.

“Cross my heart”.

“Fran went missing at precisely the same time as the husband of the Marketing Director of this company’s biggest customer. She made it clear I either said goodbye to Fran or her business”.

“And that’s more important than staying loyal to your staff”.

“Penny, I’ve spent my life building up this company - nobody messes with that. Fran lost my support as soon as she put this company’s future in jeapardy”.

“But…”

“She knew what she was doing and she should have known better”.

Pause for dramatic effect.

“Just make sure you don’t make the same mistake, Penny”

As ever, impeccable timing.

And that’s my cue to retreat.

No, not me.

Did you miss me yesterday? Yeah, sorry about that, but holy bugger, what a day.

Fran was sacked. Just like that - gone in 60 seconds (actually about 10 minutes but that’s still bloody fast). Carol said it was for behaviour that brought the company into disrepute. I thought only footballers got charged with that sort of thing.

She was a bit wanton (understatement of the year) at the Distributor Ball. Sacked for being a slapper.

Surely someone must have said something or complained. Carol wouldn’t say any more.

I’ll get it out of her. Watch this space……………

Where to start? So much gossip but so little time.

Fran was like a dog on heat. That’s an ugly turn of phrase but there’s no other way to describe her. As soon as she got in she made a beeline for anything in trousers. She knew most of the blokes it seems and they were just as enthusiastic. She did look brilliant.

I’m no shrinking violet myself but she was something else. After about half an hour I lost track of her. She re-appeared 15 minutes later wearing a wicked look straight out of a Porn movie. She just winked at me and got started with the flirting all over again.

Tell you what, she’s got the hair swishing thing off to a fine art.

“Thought this was a business do, Fran” I said when she finally was out of the clutches of some letchy male for 10 seconds.

“Absolutely, and it’s going really well don’t you think?”

“How’s all this flirting helping business”, I asked rather a bit too prudishly.

“Darling, you have no idea”.

Another wink, another swish, another guy. I kept losing track of her all evening  - on and off  - a bit, I suspect, like her underwear.

I couldn’t post on Friday as I had the most amazingly busy day getting ready for the ball.

On Thursday night I was trying on my dress, and Les popped his head round the door to say hello. I was in the middle of zipping the dress up the side. He gave me such a fright I yanked the zip straight through and ripped the bloody thing. I went ballistic at him. What was he doing sneaking round my flat like gollum or something.

Anyway, total bloody disaster. I tried to fix it and made it look even worse. I had such a mental block I didn’t know what to do. By Friday morning I was even more confused. I ended up taking the damaged dress and three other possible outfits to work. What a pillock.

So there I was in the office holding up these three alternative outfits, “C’mon guys, what do you think?” Everyone was great, very supportive. Actually it became really funny…everyone had an opion, I was getting more panicky and in the end the whole office was laughing. Very hillarious……but it didn’t help me one bit.

Finally Carol said, “For God’s sake Penny, tell me where you bought it”. She then disappeared into her office and five minutes later (after some raised voice exchanges on the phone) came out calm as you like, “they’re delivering a replacement in about 15 minutes - just meet them at reception”.

Fan-bloody-tastic. How does she do it?

I was all set for the ball, and tomorrow I’ll tell you all the juicy gossip.

My Dad says that. I never did know what it specifically meant, except that he always said it after certain phrases like; “Do your homework, it’s not all beer and skittles you know”, or “Do the washing up……”,  or “Tidy your room…..” .

I’ve had quite a few beer and skittles days since I’ve joined here. But this isn’t one of them. This is a “do your homework” day. Oh well, it’s not all beer and skittles! Aha, I’ve finally worked it out.

Shopping with Fran yesterday was a blast. Unbelievably Carol let us go early if we promised to work our lunch today. Honestly, what a fab place to work.

Fran was really great, so much fun, and a bit of a chip off the old block as far as Carol is concerned - if you know what I mean. Sassy, stylish, and takes no bull from board shop girls! I know that’s a bit sexist, but that’s OK - I’m a girl so I can say it. And lets face it, they can be so infuriating when they can’t be bothered to even speak to you, never mind help you. They gather in clusters like a cockroach convention and getting their attention is impossible.

Actually we both got a little black number - classic, right?

Identify your key assets, OK. Show off the back, expose a little shoulder, and low-cut of course. And spotlight on the legs. Alright so it’s more of a tea towell than a dress. But I do look fantastic. Fran’s was more understated, but she looked great.

Now for accessories; classic chic or funky and fun. You guessed it. Fran was classic chic. And me? Yeah, you know it; big turquiose jewellery, a big belt, and a hip metalic silver bag. We’re ready to rock.

I’m sure there’s some sound commercial reason for me going to this ball, but I’m buggered if I know what it is. Quite honestly, I’m having too much fun to really care. And I’m not even there yet.

Fair play. Carol said her piece and was as good as gold afterwards. No scowling, sulking, serious stares or scarcastic insuations. (Did you like that - I’m reading a book on creative writing - Write for Success by some geezer who used to write for Smash Hits - about my level really) and apparently this is called illiteration). Well, if I’m writing a blog every day I reckon it’s worthwhile.

Anyway, to further prove she is the top boss in town, the UK,and the Wolrd - she announced that she was going to the (apparently very infamous) Distribubtor Ball on Friday for some key customer and I was going with her. Carol, Fran (remember the hot shot sales exec), and ME!

YES, ME!

Not any of the others, me. OK, not sure why me, but who the hell cares.

What to wear? Bloody Hell, what a great excuse for a shop fest.

“Fran, what are you wearing?” I asked trying to contain my excitment.

“Actually Penny, I haven’t got anything to wear. You know, if you have to get something too, why don’t we do a bit of retail together - it’ll be fun”.

Too bloody right. I love this job.

“One more time, Penny, and you’re out”.

I openned my mouth to protest (which would have been a total lie of course) and was stopped short.

“You don’t work for David now. I expect and demand more. I can spot a sicky from a hundred paces.  I haven’t got the time or inclination to put up with amatures with no ambition. If you want an easier job, then find another job. If you’re along for the ride, then get on the bus and stay on. Understood?”

I nodded and with (not for the first time, and I’m sure not the last) a high degree of admiration, turned and fled.

“And oh Penny,” Carol called after me, “If you can manage to last the pace, It’ll be worth the ride”.

After Carol and I went our separate ways after our drink last night, I decided to “Party On” - I was on such a high. This morning my head felt like Marie Antoinette’s after she’d been guilloteened.

God I feel so bad for this, but I threw a sicky. I texted into Carol had said I had sickness and diorreha (it’s so disgusting  no-one ever wants to question you on that - too much information). I didn’t get a reply from Carol. God is that really bad. Yeah, I know it is. We’ve all done it. But I love this job. It’s so pathetic, how’m I going to progress if I do stupid things like this? Maybe I should just go in and say I’m feeling better. That’s just stupid. You know I’m my own worst enemy - 1 step forward and two steps back. 

Carol and I went out to a meeting today - how fantastic - Carol has all the responsibility, and I just take notes - certainly beats working for a living.  En route back to the office, Carol gets a call - a great opportunity came up for an interview for some trade association (someone cancelled or something). The interview was to be filmed and shown on the association website. Well, Carol went into overdrive, “My God, Penny I can’t possibly go on air like this, we’ll need to find a hairdressers or beauty salon”.

“It’s only a trade website, Carol. You’re not being interviewed by Jonathon Ross”.

“This is more important, Penny. It’s business not personal”

I’m sure I’ve heard that before, but I can’t think where. I’m sure it’s not original. Anyway, the studio was only a few miles from where we were and we had a couple of hours to spare, so we curb crawled along trying to find a beauty salon like a couple of desparate pervs looking for quick blow job rather than two professional women on the look out for wash and blow dry.

We found a great place not too far out of our way and Carol marched in like she was in charge of a tank division looking for a target, “I’ve got a TV interview in one hour and I need a wash and blow dry - do a good job and I’ll mention your salon on air”.

Yeah right - worked though!

Carol was amazing - she looked great and sounded so professional. Afterwards she was on such a high, we went for a drink rather than back to the office.

What a fantastic day!