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Jul. 25th, 2003 05:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wickedfleaWhew, I made it. Kind of a rough week. But 17 minutes more and I can go home.
The topic of the day was the e-mail I sent to the department yesterday with a picture of the urinal-cake wall hanging. I couldn't stand it anymore.
I was utterly shocked to find that not one of the women in my dept. knew what the damned thing is. I mean, OK, so women don't normally use urinals or even get anywhere near them, but still--haven't they ever drunkenly wandered into a men's room? Or worked a job that required them to clean a men's room? White-bread chicks.
So I had to tell all of them what it was, which led to some interesting conversations. Someone mentioned taking it down, and I said, "Yeah, maybe I can just put it in someone's inbox! Or maybe we can circ it!" (Circ = circulate = attach a list of names to it and send it through intraoffice mail.) Which of course brought up the time that Nancy circed a speculum.
And somehow the whole thing also brought up Nancy's story of being eight years old and always wanting crutches or casts or any of the cool stuff you get when you're injured. Once she was wrestling with her brother and scratched her knees all up. So naturally she went through her bathroom cabinets and found the biggest bandages she could find and taped them to her knees so she would be all cool at school. At the end of the school day, her teacher called her mother and asked her if she knew that Nancy was wearing sanitary napkins on her knees.
Heh. The idea of putting the urinal cake in someone's inbox just brought up a funny memory from my BK days in Radford. When I was going into work one night, I found a brand-new tube of Vagisil in the parking lot. (Man, I hope it was brand-new.) So naturally I grabbed it and put it in my boss's box. You know, my boss, Rodney T. Riddle? Yeah. He looked and acted a lot like the "van down by the river" character that Chris Farley used to do. Anyway, the next day he found the Vagisil and went ballistic. "Is someone trying to tell me I'm a PUSSY?!? I'm gonna find out who did this." But somehow he never confronted me about it, which just confirmed the fact that he was beyond dense. It always freaks me out when people see that kind of thing and don't immediately know that I did it. Like the sign by the urinal cake. Who else around here would do that? I mean, honestly. But people didn't seem to know, even after I referred to "some maniac who uses that stairwell a lot." I swear, you try to forge a unique identity in this life and people just MISS it. *sigh*
Oh, and I have many other good stories to tell about Rodney T. Riddle, BK manager, but you'll have to buy the book. Y'all are gonna buy the book, right? I'll sign it for ya. =)
Wow, that killed the 17 minutes. Nice.
The topic of the day was the e-mail I sent to the department yesterday with a picture of the urinal-cake wall hanging. I couldn't stand it anymore.
Am I the only person who's noticed this in the little stairway that goes up to production? Do y'all know what that thing IS?!?
Sorry, I know it's kind of a disgusting scene, but I'm just too freaked out to keep quiet any longer.
And I have no idea who put the sign up. Probably some maniac who uses that stairwell a lot.
baffled,
Crispin
I was utterly shocked to find that not one of the women in my dept. knew what the damned thing is. I mean, OK, so women don't normally use urinals or even get anywhere near them, but still--haven't they ever drunkenly wandered into a men's room? Or worked a job that required them to clean a men's room? White-bread chicks.
So I had to tell all of them what it was, which led to some interesting conversations. Someone mentioned taking it down, and I said, "Yeah, maybe I can just put it in someone's inbox! Or maybe we can circ it!" (Circ = circulate = attach a list of names to it and send it through intraoffice mail.) Which of course brought up the time that Nancy circed a speculum.
And somehow the whole thing also brought up Nancy's story of being eight years old and always wanting crutches or casts or any of the cool stuff you get when you're injured. Once she was wrestling with her brother and scratched her knees all up. So naturally she went through her bathroom cabinets and found the biggest bandages she could find and taped them to her knees so she would be all cool at school. At the end of the school day, her teacher called her mother and asked her if she knew that Nancy was wearing sanitary napkins on her knees.
Heh. The idea of putting the urinal cake in someone's inbox just brought up a funny memory from my BK days in Radford. When I was going into work one night, I found a brand-new tube of Vagisil in the parking lot. (Man, I hope it was brand-new.) So naturally I grabbed it and put it in my boss's box. You know, my boss, Rodney T. Riddle? Yeah. He looked and acted a lot like the "van down by the river" character that Chris Farley used to do. Anyway, the next day he found the Vagisil and went ballistic. "Is someone trying to tell me I'm a PUSSY?!? I'm gonna find out who did this." But somehow he never confronted me about it, which just confirmed the fact that he was beyond dense. It always freaks me out when people see that kind of thing and don't immediately know that I did it. Like the sign by the urinal cake. Who else around here would do that? I mean, honestly. But people didn't seem to know, even after I referred to "some maniac who uses that stairwell a lot." I swear, you try to forge a unique identity in this life and people just MISS it. *sigh*
Oh, and I have many other good stories to tell about Rodney T. Riddle, BK manager, but you'll have to buy the book. Y'all are gonna buy the book, right? I'll sign it for ya. =)
Wow, that killed the 17 minutes. Nice.
