Wednesday, November 24, 2004

Fun with throwing things

For the last few days, there has been a challenge going on between Musketeers #1 and #3. Musketeer #1 said he thought if they went up on the roof of our building, and threw a ball hard enough, that they could hit the building across the street. Personally, I think they're on crack if they think they're going to throw a ball and hit a builidng across a five lane road. The building isn't even right on the street. Well, the pre-holiday atmosphere (read: practically no one is here) got Musketeer #1's gears turning in his head.

Musketeer #1: How far do you think it is anyway?

Musketeer #3: Oh, 150 yards, easy.

Musketeer #1: We could get a range rifle! No, wait, we can build a catapult!

Musketeer #3: How are you going to build a catapult?

Musketeer #1: I have PVC pipe at home, we could use that. I have so much dog poop around, I need to build a catapult at home anyway. Gotta get rid of the poop anyway, might as well launch it into the street when cars are coming.

Musketeer #3: You're going to do what?!

Musketeer #1: Yeah... Smalls (a former admin here) had the perfect opportunity, her house was right off of SuperMainTown Road. I told her if you get a long handled shovel it can go pretty far. But girls just don't get the fun in stuff like that.

PartnerInCrime: How big do you need to build it to get the ball over there?

Musketeer #1: I have to go look up some physics stuff to see how it will work.

I think Musketeer #1 had a touch of ADD this morning, because at this point he noticed the tomato-shaped stress ball on Muskteer #3's desk. I saw the light bulb blink on over his head.

Musketeer #1: Hey... do you think I could throw that all the way down to Joe's office without hitting the ceiling? (We have a long narrow hallway in this area)

He and Musketeer #3 spent about 5 minutes throwing the tomato down the hall, periodically finding a moving target at the end. One of these moving targets thought this looked like great fun, so he came down to join them. So now we have three grown men, launching a tomato down the hall, trying to hit the office at the end without hitting the ceiling or the walls.

Musketeer #1: I wish we had a frisbee. That would work a lot better. {frightening pause} Hey.... I have an idea!

Off he went into the kitchen, and returned with a very large round bagel tray, left over from some catering event. Since the thing is made of tin of some sort, it is not only very large, but very loud when it hits things, as we discovered. Musketeer #1 took great delight in throwing it like a frisbee and watching it clatter to the ground, bouncing off cubicles and office windows. At this point, the few people
who are actually here starting poking their heads up over the cubicle walls to see what the hell was going on. Shortly after that (thankfully!) the novelty of throwing the bagel tray wore off, and the Musketeers retreated to their office and cube. The bagel tray is still out here though, tilted up against the side of a cube, all bent and forlorn. That's probably the most fun it ever had.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Tuesday, November 23, 2004

No-Carb Nation

In an effort to restore some levity to this gloomy blog, I am posting some tidbits from my secret stash. This stash is made of up entries I typed up for myself after I took the first blog down. So some of these are a little old, but I noticed a theme running through them and figured I'd post them here.

August 25th
Today Jane took JerseyGirl out to lunch for her birthday. I asked her how her lunch went and she said it was very nice.

Jane: I had my chicken fajitas. I like those because they're low in calories. You know, it's just chicken and vegetables, and the only thing that has calories is the wrap, and how much could that have?

Me: Chicken has calories... it has more calories than bread.

Jane: You think so? No... chicken is lowfat. Bread definitely has more calories.

Me (beginning to regret I said anything): What? Meat has a lot more calories than a piece of bread.

Jane: Don't tell me that, I've been eating all meat and no bread, trying to lose weight!

Me: I think you're confused because of Atkins. If you're worried about carbs, yeah, bread has carbs and meat doesn't. But if you're counting calories... meat definitely has more calories than bread.

Jane: Well I guess then you'd have to eat no meat!!!

I held my tongue, but I wanted to point out that there are people who do that - they're called vegetarians. Instead I just told her I'm not discussing food with her anymore. Can it really be that people just believe everything the advertisments tell them, and don't actually know anything at all about what calories are? I guess so.... I guess I just met Exhibit A.

August 27th
FunkyChick has just returned from a vacation to France. I was talking to her, asking how it went, etc., and we got to talking about cultural differences (vive le differance?). She mentioned that their diets are "amazing", they eat tons of bread and cheese and are all so thin. She said: "I guess because here we're so sensitized because everything's Atkins... we don't eat any bread. Over there we saw people- thin people!- eating tons of bread, people eating sandwiches, it was amazing!".

Now, I know that Atkins-mania is taking over our nation, but I do still see people here eating sandwiches. (Well, not here, as in, this office, that would just be insane).

September 1st
Yesterday, Jane and I walked next door for our usual lunch. The special was meatloaf, which was served with green beans and mashed potatoes. I, not feeling well, opted for a corn muffin. Jane, however, got the meatloaf, but told the guy not to give her any mashed potatoes, since they're on the "no-no list". As we were walking back to the office she started rationalizing aloud: "So, this is pretty good right? Pretty lowfat? Meatloaf and green beans aren't fattening... and I didn't get the potatoes, so that's good." I (very wisely) just kept my mouth shut this time. No need to rain on her little delusional parade, but I don't think I've ever seen meatloaf on a low-fat menu.

Then, to top it off, as I was chit-chatting to my boss, I mentioned that we'd just found out one of our cats is diabetic. She was shocked that cats could even have diabetes, and then said "Well, I guess you better stop giving him carbs!"

The next time you hear from me, it will be through a communication from my best friend. She'll be forwarding the article from the newspaper: "Crazed Woman Attacks Co-Workers- Authorities Suspect Carbohydrate Overdose"

Placating Pele

Your volcano update for today: Galeras volcano, in Columbia, erupted on Sunday. It was an explosive eruption that was felt 12 miles away, spawing short-lived forest fires. No one was hurt, much in contrast to it's 1993 eruption that killed scientists and locals working on the mountain and injured several others. That incident sparked (ha ha) a heated (ha ha ha!) debate within the volcanologist community, blaming one scientist in particular for ignoring signs and sending the team in to work in the first place. In case you're curious, Stanley Williams' account (the lead scientist and also one severely hurt in the disaster) can be found in his book "Surviving Galeras". Another account, more critical of the decisions made that day, can be found in "No Apparent Danger: The True Story of Volcanic Disaster at Galeras and Nevado del Ruiz".

"I wash my hands of your demolition"

It used to be that Nutjob provided weeks worth of amusing stories and anecdotes, stunning us with her stupidity and quirky obsessiveness. But my posts about her have become less amusing and more frustrating as she slips further into her delusions. I have come to two conclusions here. The first is that the world she has created for herself is beginning to crumble, so she is scrambling all the harder to maintain it, and nothing anyone says will get through those walls. The second is that there is nothing we can do about it. It's as if she were a drug addict... the desire to make a change has to come from her. No amount of people telling her that she's living in a dream world will make her see it- she has to see it on her own. Here's what brought me to that conclusion. First off, Loserboyfriend hasn't contacted her at all since the weekend. She has been talking to everyone in his family and all her friends and even a shrink about how they're going to fix their relationship, but he has been missing from all this planning. She is now saying that the only reason she brought up marriage is that she's under so much pressure from both their families, not because she wanted to get married. (Meanwhile, for the 7 years I've worked here, that's all she has been focused on, regardless of whether she was actually seeing someone). So, in her mind, she is leading a "double life"- she hasn't told her family that she and he are just going to be dating, with no commitment (keep in mind, they haven't spoken since last weekend), and her family thinks they are going to be getting married. And now, the problem of Thanksgiving has arisen. She can't go to his mother's for Thanksgiving, since they aren't even talking, but she can't stay home at her parents' house for the holiday either, or they will figure out what is going on. A woman she knows from her gym invited her to Thanksgiving, so she's got that figured out- now she just has to figure out where she's going to spend the night.

Do you see? Do you see how far this delusion has gone? I'm not even going to get into the fact that she has apparently stopped eating all together and her hair is falling out. On one hand I feel some sort of responsibility for her. Here she is, someone we all spend the whole day with every day, falling apart in our midst. Shouldn't we do something to help her? However, her friend from the other department was very blunt with her yesterday and pointed out all the horrible things he's been doing to her and just basically laid it all out on the table- and still she denied that there is anything wrong with him. She even said "he's taken me to Hawaii three times. what other guy would do that?" (Those of you who have been with me from the beginning know that SHE financed all three trips). On the other hand I realize that there is nothing any of us can do to help her. I've been there before, trying to help someone who didn't want my help, and it does nothing but cause problems for both parties. So I have to wash my hands of her. Yet I still fear one day that something awful will happen, and people will ask "why didn't anyone do something for her?" But I cannot do it. She doesn't even like me- I think she knows I wouldn't baby her like everyone else does. It's not my responsibility. She needs to do it herself.

Therefore, there will be no more posts about Nutjob insofar as they relate to her little fantasy world. If she does or says something humorous, fine. But I am done with this. It's gone too far, and it's my blog dammit, and it's supposed to be funny.

Friday, November 19, 2004

Tapdancing on my last nerve

I am irritable and have a low tolerance for people today. It's been excruciatingly slow here the last two days, and I hate being bored. I've been spending time wishing I was at home, enjoying myself, instead of rotting in here. So, two things just reall irked me that probably wouldn't have on another day. Perhaps it was because of who said them.

Scene 1:
HeadHoncho was handing out left over stress balls from a publicity giveaway we did. He was standing outside his office, near my desk, remarking that they were smaller than he'd expected. A new broker, who has been here a grand total of two weeks and has the distinction of making my skin crawl every time I see him, was walking toward HeadHoncho:

HeadHoncho (staring at the stress ball in his hand): It's a little small.

New Broker: A little small? How do you know I'm small? You don't even know me very well!

*gag, shudder* Go away, creepazoid.

Scene 2:
I was in the ladies room, washing my hands before leaving, when AngrySally came in. She squinched her face up and just as I was wondering what she was going to complain about now, she said

Do you smell that?

I just looked at her, baffled and slightly embarassed. We were, after all, standing in a bathroom, and I had just finished doing what one does in bathrooms.

Me: What smell?

AngrySally: That smell! It smells like-

Me: A bathroom?

AngrySally: No, it smells like alcohol, like someone threw up. Like someone was out drinking and got sick. Yuck!

I had no idea what she was talking about, I didn't smell anything like that, but it turned my stomach nontheless.

And of course, it wouldn't be right for me to post without giving a Nutjob update. I don't know anything about how the shrink appointment went, but I do know, because I overheard her on the phone telling at least 14 people, that LoserBoyfriend's mom had another stent put in her arteries, and that Nutjob just found this out and she was so upset because they were "out there all alone without me". Oh my goodness! However will they survive without her! So, she was polling all her friends (none of whom had time to talk to her, judging by her end of the conversation) to see if she should send them a fruit basket. I'm not sure what they said, but she sent the fruit basket anyway. At this point I have to wonder if maybe we won't be rid of her someday after all.... after she kills LoserBoyfriend in retaliation for not sharing her delusion, and gets locked away for life.

Wednesday, November 17, 2004

What was that about sympathy?

Here and now, I vow that I will not be sucked in to feeling sorry for Nutjob ever again. You all can hold me to it, in fact I'm begging you to. Here is why I have lost patience with her. Laughing Hermit is right... she chose this. The fact that she is in complete denial and is living in a total fantasy world precludes me from feeling sorry for her.

1) The shrink is not for her, because she recognizes that she has a problem. The shrink is for both of them, for couples counseling, to "fix" the relationship. This is the reason she was bouncing off the walls this morning. I briefly considered drugs, but it was only because she was so excited to go see the shrink, because she thinks he will just magically fix the relationship.

2) She picked this particular shrink because he "fixed" her friend's relationship, and the friend and her partner ended up getting married. (You see it now, right? You see that there is no getting through to this woman?)

3) She is in complete and utter denial about the fact that LoserBoyfriend does not see this as an exlcusive relationship, and wants to (and has) date other people.

4) She is in complete denail about the fact that she is 50 years old, and he is 38, and that this age difference bothers him slightly.

Mr. Ring of Fire was also right- this will not last. The shrink will tell her something she doesn't want to hear, and she will not go back. I give it one more session- today's session was for her alone, and the next one will be for both of them. She'll hang in there long enough to get LoserBoyfriend to go with her, but the second the shrink makes a single observation that is obvious to the entire rest of the planet, she will get indignant, and not go back. She does not want to hear anything that contradicts the world she's made up for herself.

Newsflash Nutjob: therapy is not fun. It is not a magic elixir. It will not make your snake of a boyfriend suddenly want to be monogamous with you. It rips off your skin, exposing your guts, which get twisted around and wrenched into positions they should not be forced into and leaves you wondering what hit you, and why the fuck are you doing this in the first place. Not that I'd know firsthand or anything.

Tuesday, November 16, 2004

It’s worse than I thought

Because Nutjob is afraid of me, she doesn’t confide in me. I don’t know why I intimidate her, I just do. Maybe it’s because I don’t have a lot of patience for her, and she can tell. But anyway, Jane talked to her a little bit about the weekend, and learned some very disturbing things. Being the gossip-hating person that she is, she came and told me all about it.

It seems that when Nutjob broached the subject of marriage with Loserboyfriend, he told her that before they even thought about marriage, they had to be exclusive for a while, and he wasn’t ready for that. I’ll pause to let that sink in. Evidently, he has seen at least four other women during the three years that they’ve been dating. I know she was aware of this because she’s hinted at it in the past. She said he’d cheated on her. I think she was just in denial about the status of the relationship itself. Now, I know lots of people have non-exclusive relationships, but generally they don't tend to be the type where one person pays for three trips to Hawaii, dreams about getting married and having babies, and drives two hours each way to see the other person on weekends just to do his/her laundry and hang out with his/her mom.

He went on to tell her that he really doesn’t want kids, to which she replied that she “could live with that”. And the worst thing is, she hasn’t exactly broken up with him. As a clue to just how messed up her brain is, when Jane asked if it was over, she said “Well, if we were married, this would be a separation”.

Now… I know I have had many a laugh at this woman’s expense but today I am feeling quite sorry for her. She looks pathetic today, broken. One good thing has come out of this- she is going to see a shrink tomorrow. I am actually very glad, because when I see through the cracks of her sickening manipulative exterior, I get a glimpse of someone very desolate and very much in need of help. So I hope the shrink does her some good and she starts to at least stand up for herself a little more and realize what a complete prick this guy has been, and send him packing for good.

My sympathetic mushball side is showing again. Got to do something about that…

You want fries with that?

Most of the brokers here are independent contractors, and so keep their own strange schedules. Because much of their job consists of showing space and going to meetings, no one bats an eye when they're not around. In fact, we want them to not be around, we want them to be out "pounding the pavement" as HeadHoncho says, looking for new business. But it would be naive of me to think that anytime a broker was not in the office he was actually doing, ha ha ha, work. In all of this mess of brokers coming and going whenever they please, PartnerInCrime and I have noticed that one broker in particular has a very rigid weird schedule. He comes in early, usually before 8:30, and is gone every day by 10. We suspect he has a second job, and have a lot of fun speculating what that second job might be. We often say we'd love to follow him and see where he goes every day at 10.

I've been pestering this broker (nicely, for now) for some paperwork I need to close a file, and I just happened to walk past his desk this morning. He was standing there with his coat on and when I said hi, he mentioned he'd emailed someone about getting copies of the documents I need. Note: It was 10 a.m.

Me: Oh great. Could you forward that to me, so I can print it out for the file? It helps to have a paper trail.

Him: *blank stare* Uh.... Tomorrow? I was just about to leave.

Me: Oh, sure no problem. I saw you with your coat on and thought you were just coming in. (silly me. silly, silly me)

Him: No, I'm on my way out. I've been here since 8:30!!!

Me: Whoa, long day!

My sarcasm was lost on him. I'm going to pull up to a Wendy's drive through window one day and see him there, I just know it.


And here is the Irritating Thing of the Day:
Jane was out sick yesterday with a cold (for real this time). Today she's back, and still not feeling good. She sits in the cube right on the other side of mine, but the cube walls are high and we can't see each other. She keeps making this noise, a little "mmm" noise, every few minutes. I think she's clearing her throat. Either that or she's got a little mechanical friend in there with her, because that's what it sounds like.

Monday, November 15, 2004

Gag me with a spoon

I am not in the kitchen. I am sitting at my desk, yet the goings-on in the kitchen are enough to make me gag. There is a broker here who apparently missed school the day they talked about manners. (Oh right... they don't teach manners anymore... but he's from a generation that might have learned what the word meant at least). First off, he is obnoxious. Oops, sorry, that has nothing to do with manners. But this does: he talks with his mouth full of food. It would be slightly less nauseating (only slightly) if he just talked, and didn't shout, but he shouts, and as a result you get little food particles flying everywhere when he graces the table. He's in there right now. At first I could hear his food-garbled conversation, but then it got worse. He started coughing. A lot. Very loudly. Not the "oh no he's choking!" kind of cough, but great racking coughs. Did he have the decency to leave the kitchen? No. He stayed in there and hacked and hacked, until, finally finished bringing up a lung, he blew his nose very loudly. Picture a cartoon person blowing their nose. That is what this sounded like. Then I heard him apologize. "SORRY GUYS. I GET A POST-NASAL DRIP SOMETIMES AND IT MAKES ME COUGH."

Oh, well thanks for sharing that! Hey buddy, guess what? That just makes the situation worse, becuase if this is something that happens to you once in a while, and you know it's going to last for a bit you definitely should have the decency to leave the kitchen. Ugh. Eating at your desk has it's privileges.

Can it be?

It looks like we may be free of discussions about Hawaii and obsessions about marriage proposals. This past weekend was Nutjob's Special Hawaiian Sand Ultimatum. Apparently, it did not go well. She seemed quiet this morning, and Musketeer #1 went over to see how it all went.

Musketeer #1: So, did you talk to him this weekend?

Nutjob: Yeah.

Musketeer #1: So did you dump him? I don't see his picture on your desk anymore.

Nujob: Yeah.

She looked down at her desk, and then burst into tears. Her friend from the other department was just coming around the corner as she stood up and dashed out the door. Her friend followed her, much to my relief, because I would have felt bad and gone to check on her if she hadn't. Musketeer #1 came over to my desk.

Musketeer #1: Well, I guess that was the wrong thing to say.

Me: Yeah, good going.

Musketeer #1: Wow, what an asshole I am. Hey Silent, how's your husband doing?

Me: *sniffing dramatically* Actually... he left me!!! *fake sob*

I immediately felt bad... but really I wasn't making fun of Nutjob, I was poking fun at him stumbling into an emotional landmine. But really, who is he kidding? He loves this stuff. The more dramatic and emotional the better, and if he can provoke it, then he gives himself extra points.

Still, I felt bad to see her so upset, even though it truly is for the best, he really was a total creep. I would be convinced that she'd be crawling back to him within two weeks were it not for the fact that she's got some ex-boyfriend, in an entirely different part of the country, whom she is considering hooking up with again. Ahhh, it never ends.

Wednesday, November 10, 2004

Bring on the soap

It's time for a re-naming ceremony. OldFart, the one with the difibrillator in his heart, which has brought him back from death no less than 11 times, will hereby be called "Foul-Mouthed Old Fart" from this day forward. I know, it's a mouthful. I'm sure I'll resort to abbreviations... FMOF has a certain appeal anyway.

Foul-Mouthed Old Fart is a huge sports fan- he better be, for the amount of money he bets on the games. I'm not talking about some office pool... he bets via Vegas, where he has an accountant buddy who somehow waves his magic wand and makes his $20,000 bet into a tax write-off. He loves to come talk to Musketeer #2 about football and baseball. As old farts have a tendency to do, he talks rather loudly. He makes no attempts whatsoever to hide his bigotry, either. The last two days, he's come down to my end of the office to talk sports. So far, each day has been an enlightening glimpse into his true feelings about members of other races and lifestyles.

Yesterday...
FMOF was telling Musketeer #2 about a football game he'd attended, and how proud he was of the fact that he was sitting close enough to the field that the players could hear him yell "Hey you big black bastard, get off your ass and do something!"

Today...
FMOF: Hey! They should fire Shockey!

Musketeer #2: Why?

FMOF: Because he's a fucking homo!!!

But these exchanges pale in comparison to one day about two months ago, when he was standing in Musketeer #2's doorway (which puts him about 10 from my desk), discussing strip clubs. Apparently he hasn't been to many, which I find hard to believe, because after a mildly offensive conversation about strippers, he came out with this gem: "Well what the fuck do you do with your dollar, shove it up their cunt?"

Ahem. Now, it just so happened that at this moment, I was standing up and getting ready to walk to another part of the office. So, as I passed by, I said (coldly) "Real nice, FMOF". Musketeer #1 and #2 were in hysterics. I don't know what they thought was so funny, my comment, or the fact that he got "busted". By the time I walked back to my desk, he was gone. Musketeer #2 came over to apologize in his place, and I curtly told him I didn't care if he used language like that behind closed doors, but he should watch his mouth out in the open like that. Musketeer #2 said FMOF was incredibly embarrassed. Good. He later came and apologized to me.

I don't know why, but I decided not to say anything to my boss about it. He knows I didn't appreciate it, and he apologized. I just didn't want to make a big deal over it. It wasn't until the end of the day that my boss called, wanting to know if I was ok. Apparently Musketeer #1 called her and told her that I was "very upset" over what happened. I told her it was highly inappropriate and I was offended, but that it wasn't that big of a deal, since he apologized. Musketeer #1 just loves to stir up trouble and get people talking, that is the only reason he called her to tell her about it. In retrospect though, I'm glad he did, because now that I think about it, I should have told her about it, if only to set a precedent.

Tuesday, November 09, 2004

Lord help us...

Please pray to whatever deity you believe in (or if you're not religious cross your fingers and wish really hard) that Nutjob doesn't hear about the 57 year old woman giving birth to twins in New York.

Wednesday, November 03, 2004

SilentWitness learns the delicate art of bribery

This post is rated NP for "no politics".

First, you need some background. Part of my job is to enforce the red tape paperwork rules, which makes me rather unpopular at times. I'm sure I've been called a Nazi more than once, thankfully not to my face. One of the things I'm required to keep on file is a photocophy of the brokers' auto insurance policies, to prove they are insured. This protects us in the rare event they have an accident while driving a client around. It is very low priority for them, so I end up hounding them for months, asking for copies of their declaration pages when their policies renew. They only give in when they can't take it anymore.

So, PhoneSwindler's auto insurance policy renewed on August 18th. I started mentioning it to him at the beginning of August, so he would know to bring the policy in when he received it. At one point he rolled his eyes at me and said "Oh, are we going to go through this again?". Um, hello asshole, you've been here at least three years, you know I ask you every time your policy renews. I've emailed him. I've left him voicemails. I've cc'd HeadHoncho on the email I sent to the guys who I've been hounding for two months or more. I mention it every time I see him. I am, in short, a royal pain in the ass until I get the paperwork I need. However, this could be avoided if they just brought the damn paper in after the first three times I asked for it.

Enter the art of the bribe. My boss's birthday is this week, so I baked her a batch of my special "delicious death by chocolate cookies that are more like brownies". Yesterday she had them sitting on her desk, so she ended up sharing them with whoever walked into her office. PhoneSwindler was one of them. He went on and on about how good they were, and when she told him I'd made them, he came over and complimented me, and then asked for the recipe. I smiled brightly and said "Sure! You can have it as soon as I get a copy of your auto insurance." He sort of groaned and walked away. I figured his laziness would outweigh his desire for a cookie recipe and that would be the end of that.

Imagine my surprise when PhoneSwindler came up to me this morning, slapped down a copy of his auto insurance and said "You owe me a recipe." Damn, that was easy! He was sure to point out that now he'd be the one bothering me every day. Wonderful. So... how long do you all think I should make him wait for this recipe?

(PS- Jane told my boss that she was offended because "everyone" had been offered a cookie but her. When my boss told her to go ahead and take one, Jane pouted and refused. Also note, she is out "sick" today. More on that later.)

Tuesday, November 02, 2004

PS

This volcano erupted yesterday. From under a glacier. Cool beans.

And it's only 9:30...

This morning, the General came back to our area, and Musketeer decided to antagonize him. (For my new readers, the General is a short of stature guy with some very vehement opinions on things... such as gays, jews, women, etc. He's also got more than a touch of OCD. He urges everyone to listen to Michael Savage... that's where he's coming from). So, Musketeer #1 said to him as he walked past, "So, you voted for Kerry this morning, right?" Since I was in the line of fire, I piped up.

Me: Aw come on, I'm sitting here between you two, don't get him started now.

Musketeer #1: Come on General, we all voted for Kerry over here, all 3 of us.

Me: How do you know who I voted for?

Musketeer #1: I surmised. Who'd you vote for?

Me (with a smirk): Kerry.

The General came back around from where he'd gone and Musketeer #1 goaded him some more. (The kicker is, Musketeer #1 hasn't voted yet, and isn't voting for Kerry. He's either going to vote Green or write in his son's name, he hasn't decided yet.)

Musketeer #1: General, we all voted for Kerry. Musketeer #3, me, SilentWitness.

The General (stunned): What? You voted for Kerry?

Me (whispering to Musketeer #1, out of General's view): thanks a lot

The General: Let me tell you. Let me tell you what I watched last night. I watched that movie about Kerry about what he did to the POW's... if you had watched that movie, there's no way you could vote for that scumbag.

Fortunately, I had a cube partition separating me and The General, so I just kept quiet and pretended to work. The General wasn't done yet though. He got all geared up and started spouting off about the movie. Musketeer #3 stood up to him and thankfully they had a (somewhat) civilized debate. It's far too early to have to worry about another brawl in here.
After the smoke cleared, Jane came over to my cube and whispered to me:

Jane: You tell me how I fit in around here. Nobody asked me who I voted for. I was just completely ignored.

Me (stunned that she was even hurt over this): He was standing right next to me, Jane, that's why he asked me. Besides, you hate him anyway.

Jane: I know, but I get left out of everything. I just don't fit in here.

I cannot believe she just got upset because she didn't get included in that debacle. And there I was trying my best to stay out of it. I am surrounded by insane people.

Also: Nutjob flip-flop update. She is now voting for Kerry because she likes "that guy Bill Edwards. He's pretty cute." Help me.

Monday, November 01, 2004

Office politics

You didn't think you'd get away with not reading about the upcoming election here, either, did you? Some things of note as the Campaign of Ugliness comes to an end:

*** Nutjob, having been a staunch Democrat ever since Lieberman was on the Democratic ticket in 2000, made a swift about-face on Friday and (loudly) announced her intention to vote for Bush. The reason for this sudden flip-flop? As explained to her by someone else, if Kerry wins, he will "make friends with the French and Spanish, and if they tell him not to support Isreal, he will say 'oh, ok'. "

*** MiddleAgedHippie has taken to answering my phone calls by playing recordings from his George W Bush doll into the speaker.

*** Musketeer #2 was ranting this morning about how many lawyers the Democrats have retained to dispute the election results (38,000 according to him) and generally making huffy noises of derision about Democrats in general.

Stay tuned for more insightful political analysis as Election Day gets underway tomorrow. (Quick show of hands- who thinks we'll actually wake up on Wednesday and know definitvely who our President will be in January? Hello? Anyone? Yeah... I didn't think so.)