to Veterans everywhere for what you’ve done, what you do, and what you will continue to do to preserve the rights many of us take for granted on a daily basis (like being able to write a snarky blog about nothing in particular and disseminate it over the interwebs at our leisure). Your service and your sacrifices are appreciated and recognized every day, not just on Veterans’ Day.
And to my co-workers, for supplying endless fodder for absolutely ridiculous work related blog posts, which will undoubtedly come back to bite me in the ass at some point. First, an update on the most absurd break room sign ever. I happen to be friends with the woman who provides our coffee and other assorted break room supplies (including, you guessed it, the offending coffee sticks). After reading the last post, she informed me that not only did this actually happen, but evidently the person in charge of these things – who I’m guessing is also the chairman of the asinine sign making committee – asked if she could supply “sturdier wooden coffee stirs” to remedy the problem. Now, she has more business sense (and patience) than I would. If I were in her shoes, this would have transpired:
Chairman, Asinine Sign Committee: Could you please look into a sturdier wooden coffee stir option? (By the way, it was pointed out through a friend of a friend is actually the incorrect way to state this. The proper way, according to this person I’ve never met and Google, is “coffee stirrer” or “coffee stir stick”. Know what else? I don’t care.)
Me (in imaginary coffee supplier position): Of course, customer. Anything for you, as you are always right. May I ask why so that can find a product that would best suit your needs?
C, ASC: Because one of our valued employees would like to eat their oatmeal with a stick and fears consuming splinters is bad for their digestive health.
Me: Seriously? Are you out of your f*ing mind? That is the most absurd waste of my time, aside from this conversation, I can possibly imagine.
C,ASC: Well, it’s not really from me, it’s from my boss, the Grand Puba of Safety.
Me: You should probably inform your boss that the workplace is a more dangerous place with him in it, because he walks among us thinking about this crap.
C, ASC: You can’t say that!
Me: You sure about that? Pretty sure I just did.
C, ASC: You’re fired as our coffee provider.
Me: That’s fine. I’ve been mixing dirt into your coffee for weeks now as a cost saving measure, so I’ve built a little nest egg. Good luck with your sticks, ass hat.
Instead, my friend took the responsible road and went on a wild goose chase for oatmeal-eating appropriate sticks. Needless to say, she was relieved when someone, in some brief moment of what could arguably be considered clarity in the grand scheme of things, opted for the sign, rather than new sticks.
And then…yes, there’s another story…I walked into the ladies room this morning. I’m going to run with the assumption that anyone reading this has been in a public bathroom containing several stalls. I bet you even have a “go to” stall. Some people claim the first one inside the door is the cleanest because people go to it the least. Some people want to be on the end. Whatever. If there’s a bathroom like this you use with regularity (no pun intended), you likely have a favorite stall (don’t make that face, you know it’s true). My personal stall choice at my place of employment is the only one with a manual flush. All of the auto ones need to be re-calibrated as they, without fail, try to suck your naked ass to Japan the second you hover anywhere near the sensor.
Anyway, I walked into my stall of choice this morning, looked down, immediately turned around and chose a different stall. No, there was nothing foul in the bowl that someone had neglected to flush – I’m not that vulgar. My abrupt departure was caused by the fact that there was chewing gum. ON.THE.SEAT. Some people would just find that disgusting and move on. My mind immediately went to “how in holy hell did that happen”? Seriously, how does one not notice that their gum has fallen in a perfectly chewed wad out of their mouth and onto a toilet seat? Does it fall between your legs while you’re doin’ your bidness? Someone scared you and you spit it across the bathroom? You fell asleep and didn’t realize your mouth was missing gum when you came to? (I am, of course, assuming that the offending gum chewer did, in fact, not realize their error. If they did and left it there, well, that’s just rude.)
I would appreciate any and all explanations to this perplexity because it would seem, while some people are incapable of walking and chewing gum, someone in this building is incapable of chewing gum and relieving themselves. I would like to seek proper medical attention for that individual (and report them to the safety committee immediately).
I promise I’ll post more food stuffs soon…it’s just been a remarkably entertaining week at work. Happy Friday.