Delusions of Grandeur

"We are setting it all to you!" ,two of my co-workers cry gaily as they barge into my hallway of a cubicle.

"What do you need?" I ask, my standard response to everything including "Good Morning" and "How ya doing?" I just know they want something.

"We found a room at the conference!" My third tier boss almost crows at how adept he is in procuring rooms in hotels. I bite my tongue before I mention that one, hotels are made for renting rooms and two, we already had a room booked.

"It's free!" He crows again. I smile and look over at his accomplice. He's smirking - there's a catch.

"Well the room is free. But we have to pay for the furniture." Ah, that's why he's smirking.

"And how big is it? How many people?" My head is already calculating the price of chairs, tables, dry erase boards. I have a brief fantasy of giving my bosses a few deer skins and some poles and letting them set up tee-pees but it's rudely crushed with a different fantasy.

"It's ***** sq. ft. My idea," my boss says, "is that all we really need is a really tall chair at the back of the room. Then I could just sit on it and when our vendors came in they could kneel in a long line."

"You want to hold court? In a convention center?"

"Exactly. All we need is a chair, and a red carpet."

I'm going to Burger King later, I think, I'll be sure to get you a crown too.

Honestly...now he's a King? Give them a window office and they'll take a whole country.