06.04.2002 - 11:29 p.m.
Tuesday
It seems like almost every
day something sort of weird or interesting happens at the office.
For instance, a couple weeks ago we had to call the police because
there was this deranged old man outside carrying a long metal
pole, brandishing it at traffic. He would dart out and stop cars,
then bang it down like a spear - CLANG! - and jabber angrily
at people. This is the same guy that knocked on our door a while
back, and rambled incoherently for about 45 minutes to one of
our way-too-patient developers about how he "invented software
testing dammit".
And last week the company
president, my Funky Boss, decided he wanted to dig up the back
parking lot in order to plant a garden. So he rented a backhoe,
which was delivered during the afternoon. Everyone clustered
around the windows murmuring dire predictions as this giant yellow
machine is slowly rolled down a ramp. Later I peered out to see
him flipping through a manual (hee!), while two other
guys stood by giving pointers.
Remember - these guys are
computer engineers. They're, like, all standing around in their
All Your Base Belong To Us! shirts, trying to figure out how
to run a backhoe. They probably ended up taking it apart
and reassembling it to be more efficient or something.
Today's weird event was
a Daring Fish Rescue. Scott, one of our support guys, was walking
by the fish tank (right by my office), came to a halt, and cried
"Oh no! Oscar's dead!"
[Interjectory note: anything
that is unusual and/or noteworthy that happens in the fish tank
is always relayed to either myself or Molly, whom I share office
space with. The assumption apparently being that our proximity
defines a presumed level of interest in said subjects.]
So I dutifully got up and
looked in the tank, where one of our engineer gobies - the fugly
one - was indeed looking peaked. He was sort of squashed somehow
under a big chunk of coral, but was still breathing.
"He's trapped in there!
We have to do something!" said Scott, who was actually
wringing his hands.
Basically, Scott is a very
sweet person with a tender nature that has no business being
around an asshole like myself.
Scott: "What do you
think we should do?"
Me: "We need a fish Lassie. Lassie, save Oscar! Go
get help! Or - I know, get the Jaws of Life! Hang in there, Oscar!
FIGHT!"
Scott: "Maybe I should try and move the coral? It's a long
reach, though."
Me: "You need one of those backscratcher deals. You know,
those cheapie sticks with a little hand on the end? Are those
even still around anymore? Seems like you'd see them in cheesy
souvenir shops and stuff..."
Scott: (straining) "Ergh...can you see if he's still there?"
Me: "Don't drop the coral, Scott, for the LOVE OF GOD! He's
- he's BURNING ALIVE! Oh, the humanity!"
Despite me being absolutely
no help whatsoever, Scott finally managed to uncover the squashed
goby, who slunk off looking slightly pop-eyed but no worse for
wear.
The other weird thing at
work today: Evidence of Cats Slutting My Chair Whilst I Am Away.
I tape-rolled the black skirt I was wearing this morning to get
rid of some random fuzz, and ending up unearthing major WADS
of cat fur from Lotus, the scruffy longhaired black cat that
typically avoids our office like we've got Rotweillers
stashed under our desks or something.
Cat fur. A recurring
theme in this diary, for which I aplogize.
go
back :::
forward
06.02.2002 - Anal
Sundry seems the type that might wield a leather whip in her
offtime, or something.
05.29.2002 - "We
obviously have a portal to Hell where horrible horrible creatures
can crawl into our house."
05.25.2002 - We
are going to rush right over and just sort of walk around and
touch things and whisper "ours".
0
comments so far.
I have moved. - 1.03.2005 Obviously, a work in progress. - 12.27.2004 Happy holidays! - 12.24.2004 Listen, I am not a complete dick, it's not like I want Joe to die alone surrounded by cats or something. - 12.23.2004 Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. - 12.22.2004
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