Thursday, March 12, 2009
"Your girl scout cookies are in."
"You bastard! It's only 8:30 in the morning. You should've held on to them until the end of the day! I'm going to be well into a box of Tagalongs by lunch!"
"Well, I can do that."
"That won't work. I know they're there. If I let them sit now, when I'm up helping that lady figure out her Outlook calendar, trying to tell her gently that her issue is not because of the software or a server but is rather a PEBKAC error, I'll hear those Samoas beconing. I can't have that."
"You want them or not?"
"Yeah..."
Sure enough, by lunchtime, one box of Tagalongs was down with the box Samoans screaming "Eat us!" Fortunately, my lunch got interrupted again, like it always does, by one of those people that don't understand that "I'm on lunch" actually means "Go away for a half hour". That vitally important install of Visio 2003 and its half hour post-install chat on whether or not I do this stuff outside of work(Maybe, but you can't afford me because you get the "I only know you tangentially" discount, which means $50 an hour as opposed to the "one 15 pack of Guinness per hour" friends get[time to pay up, friends], which is still cheap when you realize that it costs somewhere in the neighborhood of $200 to even have the geek squad drive their VW bug to your house) and on how to make your seven year old computer fast again(hint: it's likely impossible) saved that box of cookies for the weekend.
When I get back to my desk to finish my lunch, the guy in the office next to mine walks over and does his daily thing of asking something, today it was what am I doing this weekend and then when I turn to answer him, he's got his hand down the front of his pants, "adjusting". I'm not sure if this behavior is some kind of attempt at asserting his dominance over me or what but I think it needs to stop. I just don't know how to say "Hey, could you not touch your dick while you're in my office" kindly. But today, I was able to get him out by telling him that I have every intention of drinking a boot of Guinness on Friday night because I won't be able to do it on St. Patrick's Day proper, nor will I be able to beat my personal best 13 pints in a day record, but he will see me wearing orange on Tuesday to celebrate the fact that I'm not Catholic.
said Tommy T. at 6:03 PM - #
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"You bastard! It's only 8:30 in the morning. You should've held on to them until the end of the day! I'm going to be well into a box of Tagalongs by lunch!"
"Well, I can do that."
"That won't work. I know they're there. If I let them sit now, when I'm up helping that lady figure out her Outlook calendar, trying to tell her gently that her issue is not because of the software or a server but is rather a PEBKAC error, I'll hear those Samoas beconing. I can't have that."
"You want them or not?"
"Yeah..."
Sure enough, by lunchtime, one box of Tagalongs was down with the box Samoans screaming "Eat us!" Fortunately, my lunch got interrupted again, like it always does, by one of those people that don't understand that "I'm on lunch" actually means "Go away for a half hour". That vitally important install of Visio 2003 and its half hour post-install chat on whether or not I do this stuff outside of work(Maybe, but you can't afford me because you get the "I only know you tangentially" discount, which means $50 an hour as opposed to the "one 15 pack of Guinness per hour" friends get[time to pay up, friends], which is still cheap when you realize that it costs somewhere in the neighborhood of $200 to even have the geek squad drive their VW bug to your house) and on how to make your seven year old computer fast again(hint: it's likely impossible) saved that box of cookies for the weekend.
When I get back to my desk to finish my lunch, the guy in the office next to mine walks over and does his daily thing of asking something, today it was what am I doing this weekend and then when I turn to answer him, he's got his hand down the front of his pants, "adjusting". I'm not sure if this behavior is some kind of attempt at asserting his dominance over me or what but I think it needs to stop. I just don't know how to say "Hey, could you not touch your dick while you're in my office" kindly. But today, I was able to get him out by telling him that I have every intention of drinking a boot of Guinness on Friday night because I won't be able to do it on St. Patrick's Day proper, nor will I be able to beat my personal best 13 pints in a day record, but he will see me wearing orange on Tuesday to celebrate the fact that I'm not Catholic.
said Tommy T. at 6:03 PM - #
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