A bear of a job

I once worked for a man who famously said (growled?) that he expected his employees to come to work every morning “ready to bite the ass off a bear.” Seriously. It’s enough to turn a girl vegan.

And then there’s my friend who works in a gentler, less rough-and-tumble industry than old Wall Street. Still, she finds herself…well, I’ll let her tell the story:

The other morning, I was heading into my office when I looked up and found myself staring straight at a bear’s anus. A mama bear had climbed a nearby tree with her cubs. We locked eyes for a moment, and you could tell neither of us was particularly happy about the experience.

The property owner won’t call animal control; apparently he thinks he’s housing Yogi Bear’s baby-mama. (California—go figure.) So my friend now calls for a “bear report” before she leaves the house. Makes a New York City subway commute sound positively idyllic.

Stories like this make me glad I work from home. With an all-indoor commute, some of it even carpeted. I may have heavy machinery chewing up the driveway next door for two days in a row but so far, we’re 100% bear-free.

And my clients don’t growl at me; they ask. Nicely, even. It’s a really civilized way to live. I can’t recommend it highly enough.