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One of these weeks there will be a Monday with no glitches. This wasn’t it. This was the Monday when I got berated by the staff for last week’s glitches. It’s no fun living in the past, and it’s really no fun getting dragged through it behind Tim’s massive company-bought-and-paid-for pickup truck.
When he phoned me at the crack of nine o’clock this morning, the first thing he said was, “I know this isn’t your fault.” That’s what he always says, with all the sincerity he can fake.
It turns out three of his guys didn’t get their paychecks on time. This isn’t my fault because (a) I mailed them at the same place and time I do every week, and (2) I mailed them at the place and time Tim told me to mail them. That would be at the post office on Wednesday morning, so that they don’t get to his guys too early. Because if his guys get paid on Thursday, chances are they’ll be too drunk to show up for work on Friday.
At first he wanted me to overnight the paychecks every week. I don’t know exactly what he had in mind, FedEx or UPS or DHL or Pony Express. Any of those options would have required me to do extra work, and I’m not up for that. I don’t want to have to stand in line at the Pony Express office every Wednesday morning. I don’t want to have to fill out forms and double wrap a package with heavy duty butcher paper sealed with plastic strapping tape. Or whatever.
Of course I had a suggestion. Tim, if you get me the time cards by Saturday, I can mail the paychecks on Monday, giving them little chance of arriving late. That doesn’t solve the problem of their arriving early, however. So we’ve worked out a new plan that involves the least possible extra work for me (which is what I was going for all along).
Now he’s going to get me the time cards on Monday and I’m going to mail them by Priority Mail in a flat rate envelope on Tuesday. They’re all going to be mailed to his house, to be distributed at his discretion. In other words, after the bars close. | 
