Tuesday, February 12, 2008

I work with some classy people

I wrote this earlier today while out of the office. Now that I'm back I've decided to post it.

I'm on the road most of the rest of February so expect sporadic posts from me, like normal. I really didn't feel like doing any work last week and really felt like writing a bunch, so that's where all the output came from.

I'm actually at another office right now without internet access, so I'm writing this shit in Notepad. 1981's state of the art technology still used in the 21st century. Spell check? Who needs that shit? Not me. Notepad baby. Use it. Love it.

So back to what I'm trying to get at. I was walking around the office and saw this:

What's that on the windowsill?

Is that what I think it is?

Holy shit! Someone left a clearly used bottle of massage oil (classy lube) out in the middle of the office.

What kind of office is this? Is that a sign of what happens after hours? What kind of company do I work for that obviously has no problem with used marital aids lying around in the open? I'm no prude, but in the working world there's a little thing called sexual harassment, where any uptight biddy can claim they are being harassed over the littlest thing. "Hey Mary, I like your new haircut." Sexual Harassment! "Hi Jessica, those are some sharp new pants." Sexual Harassment!

Now how about a real life example? I swear on my unborn children that my company once employed a wackjob who said another employee's seeing-eye dog sexually harassed her by sniffing her crotch. How do I know this? Because HR told me the story.

Bonus corporate tip: get in good with HR by any means necessary and always be on their good side. You must trust me on this.

Anyway so I've been here for awhile and am pretty bored. I head up to the second floor to check it out and see a couch in a back room:

I'm more of a night person, so I'm always tired before 2PM, so I decide to lay down. As I'm about to lay down a vision of the bottle of massage oil pops into my head. I don't want to speculate, but I'm pretty sure that was some sort of premonition advising me against lying down. Now it all adds up. Ewwwwww... I need to wash my hands.

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