What a way to make a living
Apparently it's one of THOSE weeks in the office, because I already have another installment of workplace shenanigans. But first, a few administrative details:
* Grey's Anatomy is pretty much dead to me right now.
* My poor baby Kiefer is in jail right now. It's his birthday in two weeks! And Christmas the week after! Fortunately, he is allowed two 15-minute visits a day. Two very SPECIAL 15-minute visits a day, if you know what I mean. And I think you do.
* My love affair with Jimmy Eat World has been kicked up a notch or 10 ever since the concert so it's all I listen to at work. My favorite song is Kill, my second favorite is 23, but right now I am SO loving this part of Polaris and I play just these lines over and over: "Get down on your knees, whisper what I need, something pretty/I feel that when I'm old, I'll look at you and know the world was beautiful."
OK, worky work.
We have a major issue in our office right now, a crisis which required a solid 15 minutes of discussion in our big staff meeting yesterday. Are you ready? We're losing our vending machines. Apparently we're not spending enough money on them, so unless we pick it up, we're going to have to walk the 10 steps downstairs to the machines on the second floor to get our Diet Coke fixes, and OH, THE OUTRAGE!
Person 1: "Well, look, I'll just start selling soda out of my office. 45 cents a can. Total discount. I'll keep them in the fridge across the hall."
(We have another, unused, lunch room across the hall. One guy, Person 2, works over there. That's it.)
Person 2, getting all twitchy: "You can't use that fridge. That's MY fridge! No one else is supposed to use that fridge."
Me, whispering to the person next to me: "What, is he hiding body parts in there or something?"
(Later on, I sneak over and check. There's an inordinate amount of Diet Wild Cherry Pepsi in the fridge ... and something that looks like a stuffed tube sock in a Ziploc bag in the freezer. And no, I did not look inside to see what it was. I ran away, thank you very much.)
Someone was out sick yesterday. What was wrong with him? "I got sick from walking my dogs outside in my underwear."
Which somehow--don't ask me how, because I really, REALLY did not want to delve deeper into this one--leads to this admission from another person: "I've never done that, but I DID go trick-or-treating in my underwear once."
(And not when he was, like, five, either, by the way.)
Co-worker I: "OK, so on my flight back, there was this man in front of me with the most amazing ear hair I have ever seen. I mean, it was INCREDIBLE. How do you not notice that? It was like the spoiler on a car."
A guy comes over and says he'll get rid of this MONSTROUS something or other that someone left by my desk. (Side note: Everyone ALWAYS dumps their shit on me. I have no idea why. I have a broken Magic 8 ball, Silly String, a broken bobblehead, postcards of half-naked men, a green clown wig, foot cream, golf tees ... and yet I can't throw any of it away.)
Anyway, so he comes over and says he'll get rid of it for me because it's too heavy for me to carry and everyone keeps tripping on it.
Me: "You are totally like my hero right now."
Him (picks it up and yelps): "I'm your hero who almost just SLICED HIS FINGER OFF!"
Me: "You know, if you really did slice it off, I would take your severed finger and save it in milk until they could reattach it."
Him: "You'd ... what?"
Me: "You know, milk. Until they could--oh, WAIT! I'M THINKING OF TEETH! You're supposed to put TEETH in milk, not severed appendages! OK, never mind. I'd just put it in a baggie instead."
And then later: "Hey, do you think John Bobbitt used a glass of milk?"
They're painting the elevator and the fumes are WAY strong.
Friend: "You could totally get stoned if you stayed in here long enough."
Me: "I KNOW! For real."
Friend (after a pause): "I'm going to have to drag you out of here, aren't I?"
I'm talking to one of the girls I work with when our boss walks out of the kitchen munching on some Famous Amos cookies (doing his part for Operation Save the Machines, no doubt). Apropos of nothing, he stops, waves a cookie in the air and says: "You two are a bad influence on my ..." (long pause) "... LIFE!"
It was a weird day.