So, I’ve been told by a good friend (Anna) that my blogging is often abstract, a bit serious, why not write of amusing things? For this posting, I’ll hopefully do just that.
Several weeks ago, late on a Saturday evening, I’m standing outside the Jasper with the security guard catching up on each others’ week. An old white gent, likely seventy or more, wearing a pressed white blazer and snazzy zoot zoot shoes walks up to ask her a favor. “I’ve been waiting for a friend to come by. If you wouldn’t mind, please let her in when she comes. She’s a social worker wanting to discuss a case. I used to be a doctor you know; so, she wants my advice. Sara is a nice, black woman and she’ll be here to see me, please let her in and tell her my apartment number when she comes.” As he walks away, I’m head down laughing, and as he rounded the corner to the doors, she joins me. I say, “I don’t think a social worker is visiting at 9 PM at night. A different kind of worker is coming for him.” She nods and says, “I just may have believed him if he hadn’t told me she was a nurse a few hours ago!”
At work, we’re required to run background checks on all applicants. One came back with a cocaine possession charge and when the sales manager was informed this he had quite an intriguing response. “Why do all of you act like he’s a hardcore criminal? Seriously, who hasn’t done a little coke in their life?” All of us in the office just look at him with a sideways glance, and I nonchalantly say, “Ugh, I’ve never even tried pot…” and then another sales manager chimes in, “Yeah, well ya know ‘Greg’ who hasn’t done a little meth either?” And we all just start laughing, the manager suddenly has that ‘I’ve said too much face’ and speeds out of the office.
Lately, I’ve taken on a sweet not sour approach at work. Since people seem incapable of doing their jobs correctly, I write saccharine saturated e-mails asking them to please do something and that I understand all that is put on them and appreciate what they are able to do, blah blah, bullshit bullshit. One boss said she could tell I tried really hard to be nice to the people I directed the e-mail to and smiled knowing I meant none of it. “Yeah, well, I finally figured out something about all the men here. Nothing gets done right if you don’t give them a hypothetical nut tickle. They don’t feel big boy without it and I don’t have time to for their crap.”