I Ain't Tryin to Get Sizzle
I really suck at this updating thing.
Anyways, I had a rough episode at work this week. I was in a counseling session with a hispanic cross-dresser (yeah, I know...) when we hear this monstrous yell coming from down the hall. Here's how it went:
Ear shattering noise from down the hall: "BRRRAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGHHHH!"
Latin Tranny: "Oh my gaw! Oh my gaw!"
Rusty: "Don't worry, it's nothing. Let's get back to what you were saying..."
ESNFDTH: "GRRRAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHH!"
LT: "Oh my gaw! That's how he sound! He yell just like that! Right in my ear! He's here, he knowin I told on him!"
At this point, I excuse myself to step out into the hall and I lose it. I'd been fighting laughter ever since the cross-dresser showed up. There's a comic named Pablo Francisco who does this impression of his Puerto Rican girlfriend, and this guy sounded just like that-a man putting on an effeminate Spanish accent. It can be really hard to feel compassion for someone when you want to crack up everytime they open their mouth. Plus, this is the third or fourth time this guy has been in here. None of us really take him seriously anymore.
So I go down the hall to investigate the source of the noise. I wasn't the only one who was curious about the commotion, because half the staff was crammed around the door to Robbie's office. It seems that Robbie hates spam e-mails. That was all. He was just venting his frustration at having received a "Pursue your degree on-line" email. I asked him later if that was the first spam mail he'd ever received. He said of course not, it was just the proverbial last straw. He hates spam, using email is not worth it, and he's done with email all together.
He informed us the next day of his decision, and said that if we cannot reach him by phone, then we are to write a note on piece of white copy paper and stick it under his door. I'm giving this new system of contacting Robbie a few more days, then I'm going to slip a note under his door informing him of the low, low interest rates I'm offering on mortgages.
When I got back to my office, the Puerto Rican Drag Queen was curled up in a ball under my table, hiding his face with his hands. He screamed when I opened the door, then asked, "Chou see him? Did he ax about me?"
Anyways, I had a rough episode at work this week. I was in a counseling session with a hispanic cross-dresser (yeah, I know...) when we hear this monstrous yell coming from down the hall. Here's how it went:
Ear shattering noise from down the hall: "BRRRAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGHHHH!"
Latin Tranny: "Oh my gaw! Oh my gaw!"
Rusty: "Don't worry, it's nothing. Let's get back to what you were saying..."
ESNFDTH: "GRRRAAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHH!"
LT: "Oh my gaw! That's how he sound! He yell just like that! Right in my ear! He's here, he knowin I told on him!"
At this point, I excuse myself to step out into the hall and I lose it. I'd been fighting laughter ever since the cross-dresser showed up. There's a comic named Pablo Francisco who does this impression of his Puerto Rican girlfriend, and this guy sounded just like that-a man putting on an effeminate Spanish accent. It can be really hard to feel compassion for someone when you want to crack up everytime they open their mouth. Plus, this is the third or fourth time this guy has been in here. None of us really take him seriously anymore.
So I go down the hall to investigate the source of the noise. I wasn't the only one who was curious about the commotion, because half the staff was crammed around the door to Robbie's office. It seems that Robbie hates spam e-mails. That was all. He was just venting his frustration at having received a "Pursue your degree on-line" email. I asked him later if that was the first spam mail he'd ever received. He said of course not, it was just the proverbial last straw. He hates spam, using email is not worth it, and he's done with email all together.
He informed us the next day of his decision, and said that if we cannot reach him by phone, then we are to write a note on piece of white copy paper and stick it under his door. I'm giving this new system of contacting Robbie a few more days, then I'm going to slip a note under his door informing him of the low, low interest rates I'm offering on mortgages.
When I got back to my office, the Puerto Rican Drag Queen was curled up in a ball under my table, hiding his face with his hands. He screamed when I opened the door, then asked, "Chou see him? Did he ax about me?"