How Do I Get Back On Dave Portnoy's Good Side?
It's no secret that I've been taking L after L lately, through both fault of my own and unfortunate circumstances combined. I walk into the office (Mon-Thurs) and space and time feel suspended, as my coworkers are mesmerized by my beauty can physically feel the energy shift in the air thanks to my new anxious disposition. The click clack of my Stuart Weitzman 50/50s sends a shiver down the spine of anyone in the vicinity. Does everyone hate me? No. Do they care about me, or what I'm doing at all? Also no. We keep our heads down and mind our own business in New York (now that the Mean Girls are gone.) However lately, it's come to my attention that my very presence may be sucking the life out of the place. My watery eyes and trembling fingers (the thermostat is still perpetually set on 65) have cast a black cloud over me, my desk, and anyone who comes around.
The only thing that has kept me going for months is the fact that Dave Portnoy would make sure to say, "I like Kelly Keegs" after every onslaught of insults to my intelligence. I'm delusional, but I'm "a great ranter." I'm on thin ice, but I "am good at covering Taylor Swift." That kernel of, "okay, well at least my boss doesn't hate me," has been a beacon of hope in these dark, dark times. We may hit a few bumps in the road, but at the end of the day, I thought Dave knew that buried deep down below my insecurities, a star has been fighting to emerge.
After years of trying to gain approval, 2 long, grueling months have brought all of my progress to a screeching halt. Now, Dave thinks I'm out here cooking up ways to fuck with his work, spitting in the face of the job I'm lucky to have, and completely forgetting the Swftie bond we've worked hard to forge. Dave has even unfollowed me on Twitter. I've let him down so far, I imagine the friendship bracelets I hand made for him for his first Taylor concert are stomped in the dirt right about now.
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That being said, I've brainstormed a few ways to start turning this around, and bring us back to a place of apathy, at the very least:
Invite Him To A Taylor Swift Concert (Again)
My friends and I were able to, about a year ago, secure a box for the Taylor Swift concert in Paris this May. Upon confirmation that this wasn't a complete scam, and after handing over my own debit card for the entire suite payment, the first thing I did was ask Dave if he wanted to come along. He politely declined, as I assume 22 of my close personal friends screaming and crying may not be the ideal trip to France, but his presence would've been more than welcome. We still have one spot left, and it will be saved for Dave regardless of whether or not he changes his mind.
Support Miss Peaches
Everyone knows the best way to appeal to a man's softer side is to appreciate his lady. Miss Peaches is the new HBIC, and she deserves all of the love and attention in the world. For that reason, I will be buying 7 Miss Peaches t-shirts (one for every day of the week!) which will all go to supporting other precious pups who deserve a life as happy as the one Dave provides for his girl. I won't even tell him that he's been pronouncing "Goyard" wrong this entire time. It's pronounced however Dave wants to pronounce it, and Goyard should just change it.
Speak Highly Of The Dune Movies And Remind Everyone That Dune Came Before Star Wars
Can you believe this? I had no idea Dune was written before Star Wars until Dave said it. What a total rip off! How did Star Wars even get away with it?? And why the fuck isn't there a Dune nose filter costume available for purchase so My President doesn't have to suffer through pain and spill blood to support something he loves??? I'll be contacting the head of Warner Bros directly to rectify this mistake immediately.
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Dance on Deadspin's Grave
FUCK those snot nosed, mouth breathing, no talent HACKS. I hope Julie DiCaro falls off a cliff and never gets a job again. If I could punch the hipster glasses off Tom Ley's face myself, I would. I don't even know if Samer Kalaf still worked there, but I hope he chokes too. I took the time last night to put a few extra curses on all those involved in anything Deadspin has ever done, just to make sure. (8 candles, one each for D-E-A-D-S-P-I-N.)
Do My Job
I know deep down all Dave wants me to do, is my job. Don't fuck up. Use my brain. Keep finding the things I'm good at, and create content that appeals to the people who tune in for me, without listening to those who hate my guts. Be the bad bitch I was born to be. Put all these morons in their place. Make money. Eat, sleep, Taylor Swift, repeat.
Dave is the best boss I've ever had, and it makes me sick to think I've disappointed him. It's gotten to the point where I feel strongly that people, and Dave, actually believe I am the person the commenters/reply guys think I am. A lazy, good for nothing, entitled bitch. Every mistake is actually calculated with mal intent, and I'm actively trying to push buttons.
While I am a total cunt, I don't ever want anyone to get it twisted again - I love to work in the house that Dave built. I am not a sports girl or a gambler, yet I still have a platform to talk about the small things that bring me joy - Taylor, flowers, The Royal Family, and Harry Potter. I've been given free reign to chip away slowly at the frat bros, and bring a little bit of nerd/girly shit into their lives. Despite what people choose to believe, I was miserable and grinding at different jobs for over 7 years before I was able to call Barstool home, full time. I know what it's like to work for, with, and alongside complete assholes who think they are saving the world with their spreadsheets and meetings that could've been emails. I've gone up against the try hards who go out of their way to step on you to make themselves look better to the boss. I've been dismissed, underestimated and ignored time and time again. Not here. (Well, the try hards are still here. Nothing cooler than people who need to prove how hard they work instead of just…working hard.)
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In conclusion, this is just the beginning of my road to redemption. The idea of being unliked by my boss has been all consuming, crippling even, and it stops today. Let the healing begin.