Posts Tagged ‘Sick Sick Days’

sick days wedding hell
Nutless Tom made me his best man for his Scientology wedding.

But now he’s unhappy. It seems I’ve been failing in my “best man duties.”

According to Nutless:

-I wasn’t “chipper” enough during the Sunday 10am tux fitting.

-I haven’t been very “witty” at the biweekly Friday night family wedding dinner plans (apparently my jokes about Tom Cruise are tasteless and have to stop).

-I’m not “flexible” enough with his neverending location changes for his bachelor party.

…Oh, and my “constant sighing” is starting to annoy him.

And today he told me I needed to rewrite my wedding speech.

I said “Look, Tom, I barely know you. What do you want me to say?”

He said “Fine, I’ll write it.”

He just emailed me my speech.

Here’s a snippet of what I’ll be saying to a roomful of strangers…

When I first met Tom, I knew that we would not only be best friends, but that he would be a mentor to me. A hero. I love you, man!!!! Tom is the funniest zany I’ve ever met. But seriously… It’s a true honour to know someone as righteous as this dude. I’ll never forget the first time he told me about the Church of Scientology. It changed my life forever…

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This was weird…

Even weirder than the time Mary Margaret asked me if I had an extra pair of socks she could borrow.

Today I got an email from Carlita Paonessa…


I tell you about my new promotion and you write back telling me about the latest crown Adriana won at her beauty pageant… Puh-lease! What? Do you think those rhinestones will support you when you’re old? Anyway, sorry about your car dying. But I’m too busy. You and dad will just have to take the bus.

Carlita Paonessa is the rising star at Hamish Industries. She’s young, serious, and has jet black hair that leaps off her head in a thousand different directions.

I’ve only said “hello” to her once. She didn’t say “hello” back…

I was just about to call Carlita and let her know about the email deal when I looked up to see her standing at my desk.

Turns out her mother’s name is Alana Paonessa. When Carlita typed in her mom’s name, Outlook dropped down my email address as the suggested recipient. So she just clicked without checking.

I said, “We’ve all done that before.”

There was a long pause.

In the distance, Otto coughed.

She said, “So… Can you delete it?”

I deleted it. I figured we were done. I figured wrong.

“Now can you delete it from your ‘Deleted Items’ file?”

I did.

I thought after that she’d look relieved. But she didn’t. She just stood there…

I tried to lighten the mood. I said that the bus wasn’t so bad. I took it every day…

She looked me in the eye and she looked really annoyed.

And really annoying a rising star is never a good career move…

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I needed to borrow a stapler. I asked Mary Margaret, the woman with braces and the white streak in her hair. She giggled. And then she leant me one.

That was that… Right?


When I got back to my desk there was an email joke from Mary Margaret. The subject line was “Spineless Chiropractors.”

Then, another email from Mary Margaret. Attached was a video. In it, a fat old man was singing that he doesn’t “look good naked anymore.” I had to agree.

Then I got another joke email from her… And then another… And another…

Mary Margaret is a joke forwarder.

I just wanted to borrow a stapler.

She just sent me a JPEG of cats in hats. Not one cat. Not two cats. But ten cats. Ten cats in hats.

Great, now I sound like Dr. Seuss…

She just sent five more!

I keep deleting. They keep arriving.

What circle of Hell do they “write” these things in?

Subject: “FW: What goes tee hee hee and then explodes?”

I hope the answer is “Mary Margaret.”

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When I arrived at work today, I found a box of 500 business cards sitting on my desk.

I’ve arrived.

The cards say Alan E. Truitt, Customer Service Representative. I had asked Trudy in HR for Alan E. Truitt, Super Genius.

I knew there was no way. But still, I was hoping…

To be honest, I’m not sure what to do with the cards. We only get out of the office three or four times a year and that’s for internal training sessions. So at best, I might be able to get rid of six a year.

That means it’ll take me 84 years to finish the box.

That’s depressing.

Frankly, I was hoping to be promoted out of here in the next 2 to 3 years.

Typhoid Mildred told me that she has over 20 boxes in her office. Every time the company restructures, changes ownership, or logo, a new box arrives and she tucks it away. Never had a reason to use one.

That is even more depressing.

I asked Otto if he wanted to trade some. Like baseball cards. He told me he’s already on his third box – and can’t spare any on the likes of me.

He didn’t say what he’s doing with them.

My guess is that he leaves them in phone booths, passes them out at the line-ups in Wendy’s, and stands on street corners handing them out like leaflets. According to Otto, you need to “be out there.”

Otto is undoubtedly “out there.”

I sent one to my mother. She likes that kind of stuff. Only 499 to go.

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Went to my first staff meeting.

My boss, Clark, looked tired. And annoyed.

He wanted it done with – and quick. He had an agenda and he stuck with it. But then he made his fatal mistake.

“Does anyone have any issues they’d like to raise?”

Short answer. Yes.

It was like a wrestling cage match. Brutal attack after brutal attack…

People upset that their pens are going missing.

Other people complaining about staff hoarding pens.

People complaining about people complaining about pens – when they should be complaining about the lack of paper.

People upset that there wasn’t enough toilet paper in the bathroom.

People speculating that certain people didn’t know how much toilet paper to use.

Requests for a toilet paper replacement policy.

Discussion on whether or not we needed a form for the toilet paper replacement policy.

Concerns about the state of the fridge in the lunchroom.

Concerns about the amount of time people take to eat their lunch.

Counter attacks about healthy mastication.

A question about why we had coffee and tea but no cocoa. After all, who doesn’t like cocoa?

It was killing Clark to have to listen to this stuff. He looked like he wanted to climb over baffles and leap across fax machines to get away from us. But even if he could, he couldn’t. Clark is really out of shape.

In the upside down world of the corporate Serengeti, the gazelles are attacking a lion…

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I met with Trudy from HR to finish some outstanding paperwork and “touch base.”

Everything was going tickety boo until I made a joke. I said it was funny that Hamish Industries makes windows and doors, but my cubicle had neither.

So Trudy set me straight on Hamish hierarchy.

General office staff don’t get doors or windows. Period.

Supervisors with less than 5 years experience get indirect sunlight. Supervisors with 5 years experience get an office with a window — when one comes free. And that can take years. But they don’t get doors.

Managers get offices with windows and doors — but not corner offices. That would be wrong. The exception is managers with 20 years of service. They get corner offices – but only on the south east side of the building.

Directors get corner offices with 3 windows, one door, and a hand job.

(She was speaking quickly so it may have been intercom, not hand job… I can’t be sure).

Vice presidents get corner offices with board tables, 3-5 windows, private washrooms and reserved parking. And, apparently, I’m not entitled to know what a CEO gets. That’s confidential.

I’ll try to avoid Trudy in future. Good thing her office doesn’t have a window. After 10 minutes with her I’d have jumped out of it.

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