Bad Sitcom

I began reading Alice Sebold's The Lovely Bones Sunday night.

My friend Jason had recommended it, saying it was his Book of the Month for February. I had dismissed the book as something not quite to my tastes, but I generally trust his instincts so I gave it a whirl. Got about 30 pages in but knew right off the bat that A) I liked it, and B) thought my boss might enjoy it as well. I decided to tell her about it the next morning.

Arrived Monday morning and put it on top of a stack of papers at the corner of my desk so I wouldn't forget to mention it when she came in. Come in she did, immediately picking up and eyeing the book. "What's that?"

Upon relating the story back to the Missus later that evening, we decided that it was my next sentence that caused the trouble.

"Oh, yeah. You might like it..." I then proceeded to explain the basic gist of the novel without mentioning that I had only started it the night before.

"Wow. Sounds good." She turned the book over, read the back, put it in her bag and walked away.

Yup. She done stole my book.

Now, normally I immediately would have stood up and asserted myself, saying "Hey, I'm still reading it, ass-bag," or something equally witty and urbane, but since this was my boss, I just sat that slack-jawed as she walked away with the book I just started the night before. A few hours later I casually walked by her desk. There it was, sitting in almost exactly the same place I had it on my desk, mocking the testicles that had apparently shriveled back up inside my body.

I knew at that moment I had to do something. I inhaled, stuck my thumbs in my belt...

...and told the boss I was heading out to lunch, which I did, heading straight to the bookstore to buy another copy of the book.

And of course now I can't be seen with the book at work, because my boss will see it and ask where I got it, since I "gave" her my copy, forcing me to either tell the truth and watch all my body hair fall off in a mass exodus of what remains of my masculinity, or else tell some whopper of a lie that will only come back to bite me in the ass anyway.

Seinfeld ain't got nothing on me.