This weekend was a long one for me. Fattz and I worked Friday from 6 a.m. until almost 8 p.m. Because it was Martin Luther King Jr. weekend, we had a parade on Saturday, events on Sunday and a breakfast and banquet Monday. Fattz decided he would run the MLK Special on Dr. King’s birthday and, as a result, the morning team would have Monday off.
Fattz and I are actually very close. In fact, we are so much like brother and sister that we often annoy each other. He is way more tolerant than I, and I am way more organized than he.
Anyway, Friday had been a long day. Fattz and I had to cut a commercial together. But he was talking on the phone to record reps and laughing – having fun – while I was hard at work. The more I heard him laugh on the phone, the madder I got.
When I finished cutting my part of the commercial, I marched into his office and said in my best bossy voice, “Fattz, could you please hurry up and cut this commercial? I don’t have all day to wait on you.”
He looked at me with his here-she-goes look (which he’s perfected after working with me for 16 years).
“Cher,” he said, “I’m coming, what’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” I said, “you’re just so inconsiderate.” I knew he hadn’t really done anything except be Fattz and laugh and have fun, but I was tired and wanted to go home. He sat there typing for another few minutes, I suspect just to annoy me. I cleared my throat. He looked at me, sighed and got up, went into the production room and cut his part in 30 seconds. (Sometimes I forget how good he is at what he does.) He then said, “Are you happy now?”
I quickly finished producing the commercial and put it in the computer. Then I went to my desk and looked at the calendar. As I was texting Fattz his schedule for the weekend, he, of course, was back on the phone laughing.
“Cher, where is the MLK Special?” he asked.
“It’s in your e-mail.”
“What time is the parade again?” he asked.
“It’s at 1 p.m., and I’ve already made arrangements for the van to be there.”
“Oh, weeeeell,” he started, but I interrupted him and said, “Fattz, I texted you your schedule and the letter that you wanted is on your desktop. The commercial is done and the liners are updated … what do you need now?”
I heard him tell the person on the phone to hold on for a second. He then walked to my office door and said, “I just wanted to say thank you, and have a good weekend and that I really appreciate you.” He smiled his Fattz smile. Who can stay mad at him? Actually, sometimes I can, but that’s another story.
“I know you do. I appreciate you, too, but don’t forget about the banquet Monday night,” I replied.
As I walked toward the door, I heard him saying to the person on the phone, “Oh, that was just Cher being Cher. She’s a pain in my backside, but she’s my backbone. Behind every good man, there’s a pain like Cher Best.”
I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. As I pressed the elevator button I mused that if I’m walking behind him, at least I can thump him in the back of the head when he’s walking too slow.