[Kitsa]

One of my old bosses (we were supposed to be co-managers but she muscled her way in) lied her ass off at work. I was simultaneously fascinated by her genius and terrified that she'd frame me for something she did.

It was a piano store, which meant that it wasn't wildly busy and just about dead during the days. All she really had to do was order stock (she couldn't read music, she asked the reps what was popular), forward the credit card receipts to the owner, and submit timecards every 2 weeks. The rest of the time she mainly just hung out in the store and did whatever the hell she wanted, because no one wants to buy a piano in the middle of the day. I had the afternoons and evenings, the busy time with lessons and people who had their partner with them to piano-shop.

So during the days, she basically did nothing. Then doing nothing got boring, and she was in charge of the store's cash, so she started taking cash out of the register to finance snacks from the bakery a few doors down, food from the Chinese place, etc. Then she got a membership to the video store next door under the piano store's name and watched movies all day. She told the owner she was getting cartoons for kids to watch while they were waiting for lessons.

A few months of that, and then she got brave enough to close the store entirely and go on shopping trips with money from the register. Our phone had two lines...she'd put one on forward to the second, and then she'd put the second on hold. I'm not sure exactly how it worked but it made it seem like both lines were busy. Then she'd put a "Be right back" sign on the door, close up, take some cash from the register and go to the mall. Sometimes she'd be getting back just as I arrived.

I was a timid 18-19 year old at the time, and I caught on to what she was doing pretty quickly but didn't know what to do about it. The woman's cousin was the owner's personal secretary, so she got a heads-up whenever the owner was headed our way...never got busted. When I was leaving, on very bad terms with her, I tried to tell the owner what she was doing. He asked me what the hell was wrong with me.

Not long after I moved to a much better (as in, not $5 an hour to sell pianos and babysit kids waiting for music lessons) job, the store closed. I always wonder if she ran it into the ground. I'll never know for sure, but I bet she did. I feel bad until I remember the owner glaring at me and hissing, "What the hell is wrong with you?", or the hundred-odd times I was dicked out of commission on a technicality, and then I become pretty happy about it.