Monday, August 10, 2009

Last week, a former team mate who is now in another department paid us a visit. She illustrated how a person looks busy just by walking around an office with a piece of paper in their hand, and it's true! Try it the next time you are at work.

Dressed in gray tights with a long top with tri-purple-colored high heels resembling an updated "Flashdance," M. takes it to the next level. She holds in her hands: 3 pieces of paper, a blue accordion file folder, AND a UPS 2nd Day Air envelope. Wow!

I confess to her that I'm biting the bullet and admitting I am in fact very jealous of her importance so I'll do my best this week to be more like her, starting with taking notes of everything she says.

I ask M.'s cube mate for some advice. She shows me an application for her cell phone called "FART ANDROID," which plays a variety of "fart" sound effects such as "juicy," "long," "relief," "messy," and "toot."

Upon hearing the sound effects, M. slants her eyes and leans her head back. "This is how we do it, Jake." She tells me, holding up her iPhone. With sheik, hard fingernails, she presses several random buttons and explains, "I'm checking to see if you have an appointment."

Before my appointment can be confirmed, M's cube mate cries "Ow!" We look over to see her spit out a piece of chewing gum. Cube mate explains that she bent over to spit her gum out and hit her head square on the desk by accident.

M. stands up and walks down the aisle. As she turns the corner, her foot slides out of her heel and back in again, creating a small pocket of air that makes a funny noise.

"Did her shoe just fart?" I ask cube mate.

Cube mate responds, "My phone does."

I sit in front of M. with my pen ready. I ask what I can do to be more like her.

M: "It took me years, 79 of them, to be where I am now."

Me: "Where are you?"

M: "It would take me years to explain, Jake. You wouldn't understand. I'm busy."

(After a pause, she continues.)

M: "I impress myself. Jake, do you want chocolate from my golden tray?"

Me: "No, thanks."

M: "You obviously don't know who I am. This tray is heavy because the chocolates are expensive."

(Time passes and I reluctantly have a chocolate. It's dark and tastes bitter. When I come back from lunch, M. fills me in on the afternoon fun.)

M: "Earlier it was awesome! It was an FF; Festival of Farts. It was like a garlic festival but with farts. I was eating eggs and cube mate had the Fart Android. Between us, it was an awesome FF! You missed it."

M. offers me a Halls cough drop. My voice is scratchy so I accept it, but M. suddenly licks the side of the wrapper and says, "Nope. The milk has leaked. Sorry."

M: "What happens on Fridays stays on Fridays!" she tells me.

Me: "That doesn't seem noteworthy. Should I write it down?"

M: "Jake, everything I say is noteworthy. You should write everything I say down."

(I read that part back to her.)

M: "I did not just say that."

M. offers weight loss advice to a co-worker: "Don't weigh yourself. Measure your inches. Muscle weighs more than fat. Muscle burns fat."

I ask M. if she has any final quotes for the day. She thinks about it momentarily, then blurts out the following:

M: "Jake, I only hope that I am able to inspire greatness. The degree of greatness that I inspire... I've lost my concentration because when you're this great and this important there are several priorities constantly on your mind and they have no order. I have to pee so bad I can taste it."

And she is gone.

No comments:

Post a Comment