Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Busted

A little while ago, I happened to be at the front desk when the UPS man came to pick up our outgoing packages. I thought it a little odd that he said to me "Wow, you look so conservative!", but I didn't think much of it. (Didn't think much of it other than to IM ChinaGirl immediately and say I'm in a corporate environment, wearing a regular business suit type outfit- how is that conservative? It's the norm.) Anyway... this afternoon as I was walking past the front desk from dropping something off at MarketingGal's cube, the same UPS guy was standing there, chatting with the receptionist while waiting for someone to finsih a package. I stopped and asked him if he'd be back at 5:30 (our normal pickup time) and he said he wouldn't but someone else would be. Then he added:

UPS Guy: I just can't get over how conservative you look now.

Me (stopping dead in my tracks and turning around): What are you talking about?

UPS Guy: Well you used to look all goth and everything, now you look so conservative.

Me: Do I know you from somewhere other than here?

(Immediately the receptionist's and RunOnSentence's ears pricked up... I could see them thinking "ooooh this could get interesting!")

UPS Guy: No... I've been doing your pickups for like four years. And you used to look really goth.

Me (genuinely puzzled): But I don't dress any different now than I did 4 years ago. Oh! (it hit me) I used to have really long hair, that's probably it.

UPS Guy: Oh yeah! That's what's different! You just look so conservative now.

Dude. The jacket and pants I'm wearing, I've had for a few years. Nothing about me is different except for the haircut. So stop making the girls at the front desk think I walked around here in flowing black gossamer dresses, fishnets and combat boots. Because I stopped dressing like that on a regular basis about ten years ago.

D'oh.

I can't even think of a title for this

Things most people usually don't talk about with their bosses:

anal beads

I don't know why but my boss continues to surprise me with the things she reveals. She had the day off on Monday, and yesterday was quite chipper and refreshed. I commented that the day off had done her some good, and she replied it could only have been better if she'd had sex. Which after a moment, she amended. "Well.... I did have sex. Just not with a person." This of course launched her into telling me about her friend's sex toy party this weekend, which is how the anal beads came up. If HR has a bug in her office, we're so screwed. Erm.... in trouble.

Thursday, April 20, 2006

Knucklehead lives up to his name

Since Knucklehead downloaded a virus from God-knows-where and destroyed his computer, he had to get a new one. I was at his desk configuring it to the network and installing software, and he was gone for most of the time, but he came back before I finished, and we had to make conversation. You’ll recall this is the guy who tried to tell me he witnessed a bench-clearing brawl at a hockey game, and though he professes to be a fan of a certain team, really doesn’t know squat about them, as I have demonstrated to him on more than one occasion. So here we are, about to start the most exciting part of hockey, the “second season”, the playoffs, and I couldn’t be more pumped. Too bad he opened his mouth.

Knucklehead: So… I bet you’re sad that hockey season is over.

Me: No…. I’m not sad, because MyTeam is in the playoffs. This is when things get really good. Actually… they’re playing YourTeam in the first round. I’m surprised you didn’t know that…

Knucklehead: Uh… yeah. So, are you going to any games?

(MyTeam is not a local team. Hence, I have to endure a lot of trash-talking from the fans of HisTeam, which getting even more fun now that the two teams ended up facing each other in the first round of the playoffs)

Me: No, the tickets are too expensive.

Knucklehead (puffs himself up): Well…. I could probably get you some tickets.

Me: Really? That would be cool.

Knucklehead: Two of the people I train have season tickets. Sometimes they give me tickets instead of paying me.

Me: I highly doubt they’re going to be giving these tickets away. This is a really big deal.

Knucklehead: Well.. I’ll see. You never know.

Me: Well thanks, that would be really nice.

Now… if he does manage to get the tickets, since he professes to be a fan of this local team, I guess that kind of means I have to go WITH him, since he was nice enough to get the tickets. Oh the sacrifices we make to see our team in the playoffs... I'm sure I don't even have to worry about it though. The chances of season ticket holders giving up tickets to a playoff game are slim. Of course, they are fans of ThatTeam. They can't be all that smart. *smirk*

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

More spidey-talk

Bruce came into the copy room while I was in there, and I decided to have a little fun.

Bruce: Hi Silent, what's going on?

Me: Not much. How's your spider?

Bruce (lauging): I haven't looked at him in days.

Me (taking a cue from Mr. RingofFire): You know..... you should have the spider and the scorpion fight each other.

Bruce: I've thought of that, actually. But it wouldn't be much of a fight.

Me: Why?

Bruce: Well the scorpion has armor, claws AND a stinger. The spider doesn't have armor. It's fangs wouldn't be able to pierce the scorpion's armor- the scorpion would kill it instantly... and then eat it.

Me: Your spider's a wuss.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Show me your spider

I was going to write about how RunOnSentence came into the office through the wrong door this morning and then wondered why the alarm was going off and what to do about it (despite my giving everyone the alarm codes only days ago), but something more entertaining presented itself. In our snazzy new office, we have a fancy hallway leading from the reception area to the rest of the office. It has nice wallcovering and soft lighting and eventually will have art hanging on the walls. This morning though, the only thing on the walls was a big brown spider. The building maintenance man happened to be walking in my direction, so I pointed it out in jest, as if it was something he should take care of.

Me: Check it out, Bob. A spider.

Bob (crouching to examine it): Ahh yeah, we have tons of those.

Tons? In an office building? This should be interesting. For some reason I found this amusing and was grinning about it as I walked to the coffee machine, where Bruce was lying in wait. I mean, already there making coffee for himself.

Bruce: What are you grinning about?

Me: Oh… there was a spider up front.

Bruce: That’s funny?

Me: For some reason, yeah.

He asked if it was a big spider and when I said no, he launched into at least two stories of HUGE spiders he’d seen in offices at other jobs. His description of one of them really gave me the willies.

Bruce: It was huge. And hairy. It looked like a mini-tarantula. I have no idea where it came from.

Me: Maybe it was someone’s pet that got loose.

Bruce: Hey… have you seen my tarantula?

(Oh dear… here we go…)

Me: I saw it’s dead carcass on your desk in the old space.

Bruce: That wasn’t a carcass, it was it’s shell! They molt!

Me: Ah…. I was wondering why you’d have a dead spider at your desk. I thought maybe it died and you didn’t want to part with it.

Bruce (shoving his picture-phone in my face): Here. That what he looks like.

Ack. I’m not especially frightened of spiders, but I don’t really like them all that much, especially giant hairy meaty ones. Besides, once you’ve seen one tarantula you’ve seen them all, really. Of course I didn’t tell him that, I wouldn’t want to bruise his fragile ego. While I was recovering from the case of the heebie-jeebies the picture gave me, he was scrolling through his phone looking for something else. I know he has a bird, so I assumed that’s what he was looking for. Nope. Another picture in my face. Of a scorpion. The guy has a pet tarantula and a pet scorpion. No wonder he’s single.

Thursday, April 06, 2006

What a tool

HeadHoncho took time out of his busy day to forward that "add up a bunch of numbers... now think of a color and a tool... if you said 'red hammer' you have a normal brain like 98% of people, if not you're weird" email. Since I'd already received this email from a friend, I knew I'd already pigeonholed myself in the "weirdo" crowd by thinking of a pink drill. I emailed him back and said "surprise surprise, I'm in the 2% with the abnormal brains". Here is the email conversation that followed:

From: HeadHoncho
To: SilentWitnes
Re: 98%

What was your answer? The rest we already know.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From: SilentWitness
To: HeadHoncho
Re: 98%

A pink drill.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From: HeadHoncho
To: SilentWitness
Re: 98%

A pink drill? Oh my god!

I think you and I need to call HR about this.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


From: SilentWitness
To: HeadHoncho
Re: 98%

I think YOU need to call HR and ask them to help you get your mind out of the gutter. ;)

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

Thar she blows

It's been a really insane week so far, and yes I'm aware it's only Wednesday. All day I've been looking forward to our hockey game this evening, but I think an even better stress reliever is being on the phone with your boss, who suddenly reveals that this weekend while her boyfriend was sleeping, she wrote "my name is Moby" in fine point rollerball pen on a very delicate part of his anatomy. Even funnier was hearing her describe how he discovered her message, when he went into the bathroom in the morning and she heard "Hey! Did you write on my cock?! [laughter] What the hell does this say???? 'My ... name... is...... MOBY?!?!' " [side-splitting laughter].

Who needs therapy when you have a boss like this?