longjournal.com
For some reason I believe I've somehow been granted the gift of "a life full of things that shouldn't happen". I look at it as a gift rather than a curse because it's more often than not the news that I'll be dressing up as a bunny here at work this Halloween rather than a phone call from my mother letting me know my 50 year old uncle's dating an 18 year old and my aunt's smoking crack again.
I stumbled upon the costume by accident on a search for bottled water in the closet. Eyes scan left. Bunny ears. Eyes scan right. Giant purple basket.
"Well, look at that. You guys have costumes already!"
"Yes! And if you stick around you'll be the bunny this Halloween!"
I laughed an uncomfortable laugh. Mouth wide open sounding like a mix between Roseanne's signature cackle and the sound a dog makes right before it throws up.
"Well, I would be delighted... to be... your... bunny."
*silence*
Inside I'm thinking "Did that sound like a come on?" Outside my face brought new meaning to the nickname I've slowly but surely picked up: pple. My tongue felt like the worm inside of a rotten one.
This afternoon things happened that could only happen in a dream. First:
The Bug On Floor 4
The phone rang and the voice on the other line sounded frightened.
"Hello! I need to speak to someone about a--RODENT! A very large insect!"
Okay, awesome. Now she completely changed the definition of rodent. A very large insect is no longer an insect at all. It is very hard to keep from laughing while I ask, "What kind of...rodent, ma'am?!"
"It's a bug about 3 inches long and is crawling around the women's restroom!"
At this time the proper procedure is just to call the exterminator, but more curious than concerned I kept asking bug questions like it was protocol. She had me hooked at the end of the sentence with the words "giant" and "locust". I had to see it. More importantly than that I had to save it. The timing coundn' have been more perfect. My supervisor sent me on an errand down the street, so I grabbed a dixie cup from the break room and headed down to Floor 4. The most embarrassing part is how I had to change elevators to get there.
When I arrived I was heart broken to learn I didn't have the proper tags to enter the door leading to the women's rest room on that floor. So I'm standing, frowning, and gripping a dixie cup as I muster up the courage to forget about the critter and run my errand. No more games, April. Do your job.
So my empty dixie cup and I made our way to the bank down the street. All the while going over different excuses in my head as to why I didn't call the exterminator but always coming back to "Call the exterminator because they heard your bug questions, you weirdo."
Not even paying attention to the address I stumbled and fumbled sadly into the first bank that I assumed to be my destination. I go all the way to Floor 4 (a less interesting Floor 4 that is, or so I thought) and stop in the middle of a cubicle maze/mess. The lunch smells roared through my nostrils and instead of moving my legs to find a person to help I thought about how a mixture of colors makes the color brown and a mixture of smells makes the smell brown. I think you know what I mean by that.
And then it happened. My lady in red. My little Alaskan Snow Crab. A woman by the name of Kristen with claws for hands gripping a paper Chick-fil-a bag. She guided me through a maze of cubicles to her very own and I had to cover my face with the envelope I was supposed to deliver because I looked like a virgin following his date into their hotel room after Senior Prom. I'm not saying I wanted to have sex with her. I don't always like being the kind of person who is fascinated by this sort of thing, but sometimes I just have to embrace it.
"I've only been here for 6 weeks, but I'll help you find the right cubicle! I moved here from Florida."
I had to give myself a good mental slapping as soon as I thought "Of course you are, crab hands." in my head.
Instead I blurted out another accidental come on.
"I just moved here from Chicago, I'm glad we found each other!"
Oops. You see, I meant it in a mild sarcastic adult in the workplace humor way only it really sounded more mild pathetic balding adult dude picking you up while you're sweeping the floor at Starbucks. I don't think she noticed.
"You're in the wrong building, April."
I certainly was. I was about 5 buildings off as a matter of fact.
But I was on the fourth floor.
I stumbled upon the costume by accident on a search for bottled water in the closet. Eyes scan left. Bunny ears. Eyes scan right. Giant purple basket.
"Well, look at that. You guys have costumes already!"
"Yes! And if you stick around you'll be the bunny this Halloween!"
I laughed an uncomfortable laugh. Mouth wide open sounding like a mix between Roseanne's signature cackle and the sound a dog makes right before it throws up.
"Well, I would be delighted... to be... your... bunny."
*silence*
Inside I'm thinking "Did that sound like a come on?" Outside my face brought new meaning to the nickname I've slowly but surely picked up: pple. My tongue felt like the worm inside of a rotten one.
This afternoon things happened that could only happen in a dream. First:
The Bug On Floor 4
The phone rang and the voice on the other line sounded frightened.
"Hello! I need to speak to someone about a--RODENT! A very large insect!"
Okay, awesome. Now she completely changed the definition of rodent. A very large insect is no longer an insect at all. It is very hard to keep from laughing while I ask, "What kind of...rodent, ma'am?!"
"It's a bug about 3 inches long and is crawling around the women's restroom!"
At this time the proper procedure is just to call the exterminator, but more curious than concerned I kept asking bug questions like it was protocol. She had me hooked at the end of the sentence with the words "giant" and "locust". I had to see it. More importantly than that I had to save it. The timing coundn' have been more perfect. My supervisor sent me on an errand down the street, so I grabbed a dixie cup from the break room and headed down to Floor 4. The most embarrassing part is how I had to change elevators to get there.
When I arrived I was heart broken to learn I didn't have the proper tags to enter the door leading to the women's rest room on that floor. So I'm standing, frowning, and gripping a dixie cup as I muster up the courage to forget about the critter and run my errand. No more games, April. Do your job.
So my empty dixie cup and I made our way to the bank down the street. All the while going over different excuses in my head as to why I didn't call the exterminator but always coming back to "Call the exterminator because they heard your bug questions, you weirdo."
Not even paying attention to the address I stumbled and fumbled sadly into the first bank that I assumed to be my destination. I go all the way to Floor 4 (a less interesting Floor 4 that is, or so I thought) and stop in the middle of a cubicle maze/mess. The lunch smells roared through my nostrils and instead of moving my legs to find a person to help I thought about how a mixture of colors makes the color brown and a mixture of smells makes the smell brown. I think you know what I mean by that.
And then it happened. My lady in red. My little Alaskan Snow Crab. A woman by the name of Kristen with claws for hands gripping a paper Chick-fil-a bag. She guided me through a maze of cubicles to her very own and I had to cover my face with the envelope I was supposed to deliver because I looked like a virgin following his date into their hotel room after Senior Prom. I'm not saying I wanted to have sex with her. I don't always like being the kind of person who is fascinated by this sort of thing, but sometimes I just have to embrace it.
"I've only been here for 6 weeks, but I'll help you find the right cubicle! I moved here from Florida."
I had to give myself a good mental slapping as soon as I thought "Of course you are, crab hands." in my head.
Instead I blurted out another accidental come on.
"I just moved here from Chicago, I'm glad we found each other!"
Oops. You see, I meant it in a mild sarcastic adult in the workplace humor way only it really sounded more mild pathetic balding adult dude picking you up while you're sweeping the floor at Starbucks. I don't think she noticed.
"You're in the wrong building, April."
I certainly was. I was about 5 buildings off as a matter of fact.
But I was on the fourth floor.