Wednesday, April 13, 2005

Nutjob on fire

It's birthday cake time again. And instead of our usual ice cream cake, we had regular sheet cake. What? No gasp of shock? No paroxysm of dissent? Could it be that no one else but Nutjob cares that much about what kind of cake we have?

This month one of the birthday-ees is FunkyChick. Woe unto her, she requested a "regular" cake instead of an ice cream cake. Nutjob, ever presenting the smiley helpful nice you-can't-live-without-me front, honored her request, but spent the entire two weeks leading up to Cake Day going around telling anyone who would listen that we wouldn't be having an ice cream cake this month. She then reported back to PartnerInCrime with glee whenever anyone expressed the slightest bit of disappointment (which most likely was in her own mind anyway). She rubbed her hands together with glee, and told him how happy it made her that "everyone wants ice cream cake". She was ecstatic at the thought that everyone would be so disappointed by FunkyChick's choice that they'd clamor for ice cream cake every month hence. She alternately vowed that she would never get another "regular" cake again, and swelled with pride at the fact that no one seemed to want the "regular" cake.

Yesterday was Cake Day, and I happened to be in the kitchen getting my lunch out of the refrigerator when everyone else was in there eating. What were they discussing? The cake. Nutjob was going on at length about the lack of ice cream in the cake, and successfully goading Musketeer #2 into a bitch session about how we're not having ice cream cake this month. (It doesn't take much goading to get him to bitch about something). They were all speculating on when the best time to eat the cake would be. I swore it was decided that 2:15 would be Cake Time, but 2:15 came and went, nary a slice of cake to be found. Ah but yes, I forgot that Nutjob has to control every little bit of this office tradition. She waited until 3:30 and then made the announcement over the intercom, which almost had me falling out of my chair:

"Would everyone please come to the kitchen for birthday cake? And it's NOT ICE CREAM!"

FunkyChick is so lucky that she gave notice and will be moving on from this nut house.

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And that's not the last of the Nutjob stories involving food:

PartnerInCrime and JerseyGirl are taking FunkyChick out to lunch tomorrow as a "good bye good luck" type of lunch. It was just going to be the three of them, until Nutjob shoved her nose into it. While standing at FunkyChick's desk, Nutjob peered over FunkyChick's shoulder at her calendar and noticed it said "Lunch w/PIC" in tomorrow's box.

Nutjob (squeaky little girl voice): You're going to lunch?

FC: Yeah.

Nutjob (pouty/whiny little girl voice): Oh.... [silence] Oh, I want to go too!!!!

FC actually gave in and told her she could join them. I think I would have told her that for being nosy and for being rude enough to ask to be included, not only could she not come with us (if this was my lunch), but she'd be excluded from the next social lunch as well.

Farewell, FunkyChick. What more fitting way to leave the office than to have Nutjob worm her way into your goodbye lunch.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Don't look back FunkyChick... don't ever look back...


Mr. Ring of Fire

3:46 PM  

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