(no subject)
About an hour ago I was awoken (awaken? awoken?) by kidney back spasms or something and now here I sit, waiting for the Vicodin and Oxybutinin to kick in so that I can return to sleep. I say this so that you'll all feel really bad for me (because honestly, this is the worst thing in the world) but also because it's a nice segway into my story about Charlie.
I met Charlie about twenty years ago in Paraguay. He was a little shy and pretty rough around the edges, but I could tell he was well-intentioned and had a heart of gold, so I asked him to join my team.
We worked together feverishly night and day, week after week, month after month and year after year, until finally it was complete.
It was pretty huge, and very well made. It had about thirty different layers and could be disassembled in less than three minutes to form into a workable oven. Damn, those pastry puffs were good. Charlie thought so too.
Charlie and I were all ready to present our masterpiece to the committee, but decided to go over our prepared speech one more time. Everything was going well until we reached the point when Charlie was supposed to describe how the dual-fan powered belt worked. He was the one who had come up with the design and so it was only natural for him to talk about it.
Apparently Charlie had other thoughts, and had completely neglected to say anything about the belt. This was not going to go over well with the committee - the fan was an integral part of the construction and design! How could we just not address it?!
I talked to Charlie, but he wouldn't budge. He was insistent that it wasn't important enough to talk about in our speech and by the end of our discussion he was becoming a little hostile. He hit me a few times and actually drew blood on my back, but he had been a nurse before he had come to work with me, so this was slightly expected.
The meeting went off splendidly. Honestly, it couldn't have been more perfect, and Charlie was completely right about omitting all mentions of the belt.
After the meeting, and during a celebratory cocktail, I asked Charlie how he knew the business execs wouldn't want to know about the belt and all of it's glory. Charlie chuckled to himself, took a sip of his drink and then pulled out a shotgun. Two shots and I was on the floor. I mean, technically I was on the floor with the first shot, but the second one really sealed the deal.
It hurt a lot, but Charlie had definitely made his point. We both laughed about the whole thing later in the hospital when I was being treated for pretty deep knife wounds. It was a completely unrelated accident that happened years later, but i guess with some things it just takes a few years before you can look back on them and laugh.
I met Charlie about twenty years ago in Paraguay. He was a little shy and pretty rough around the edges, but I could tell he was well-intentioned and had a heart of gold, so I asked him to join my team.
We worked together feverishly night and day, week after week, month after month and year after year, until finally it was complete.
It was pretty huge, and very well made. It had about thirty different layers and could be disassembled in less than three minutes to form into a workable oven. Damn, those pastry puffs were good. Charlie thought so too.
Charlie and I were all ready to present our masterpiece to the committee, but decided to go over our prepared speech one more time. Everything was going well until we reached the point when Charlie was supposed to describe how the dual-fan powered belt worked. He was the one who had come up with the design and so it was only natural for him to talk about it.
Apparently Charlie had other thoughts, and had completely neglected to say anything about the belt. This was not going to go over well with the committee - the fan was an integral part of the construction and design! How could we just not address it?!
I talked to Charlie, but he wouldn't budge. He was insistent that it wasn't important enough to talk about in our speech and by the end of our discussion he was becoming a little hostile. He hit me a few times and actually drew blood on my back, but he had been a nurse before he had come to work with me, so this was slightly expected.
The meeting went off splendidly. Honestly, it couldn't have been more perfect, and Charlie was completely right about omitting all mentions of the belt.
After the meeting, and during a celebratory cocktail, I asked Charlie how he knew the business execs wouldn't want to know about the belt and all of it's glory. Charlie chuckled to himself, took a sip of his drink and then pulled out a shotgun. Two shots and I was on the floor. I mean, technically I was on the floor with the first shot, but the second one really sealed the deal.
It hurt a lot, but Charlie had definitely made his point. We both laughed about the whole thing later in the hospital when I was being treated for pretty deep knife wounds. It was a completely unrelated accident that happened years later, but i guess with some things it just takes a few years before you can look back on them and laugh.