A few months ago I decided that I was in desperate need of human interaction, so I decided to get a job outside the home.
I’ve always been home with my girls, but since my youngest had just started kindergarten and I had completely forgotten how to converse with actual adult-like people, I thought it was probably the next logical step in life.
Through an awesome friend, I got this amazing job that I actually really enjoy. I’m serious…granted I am forced to get out of my beloved jammies every morning and walk outside in the dead of winter in
the Arctic Winnipeg (which is the coldest place in the world…not even kidding) but I actually don’t mind. Yeah I know…so not me.
I’m not even going to tell you where I work because it’s so amazing that you’ll try to steal it from me.
Then I’d have no job, be completely bored at home forever while pestering the mailman for company and forced to knit funky shaped socks for my kids while crying into a bowl of mushed-up cereal that my child refused to eat yet again after asking for it for the sixth day in a frigging row…SO BACK OFF!!!
Now that we’ve established boundaries, I’ll tell you what I can about my secret job.
What makes life at work the most interesting are the conversations between co-workers in the staff room and the funny crap that happens on a daily basis.
I swear some of them probably think I’m as stuck up as hell because all I do is sit there quietly smiling while they laugh and talk about the funniest shit.
In reality though, I’m just taking it all in because more often than not…that shit is frigging hilarious and I need blog fodder!!!
Plus I’m one of those people who can talk if I suddenly think of something funny to say, but tend to stay quiet and listen when others are talking.
Some people call me a good listener.
I’m really just irrationally uncomfortable with being the focus of attention.
I’d rather eat knives.
Covered in barbed wire.
While swimming with piranhas.
So I guess to those who don’t know me, my sitting there quietly might come off as judgy, but I’m really friendly…I swear!
Ok so my first topic of discussion is a co-worker who recently lost her voice.
I shall call her ‘Squeaky’.
This is not the first time Squeaky has had this particular problem, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.
The other day, Squeaky comes into work and sits herself down at the front to do work while greeting patients who are arriving for their appointments.
This would not normally be an amusing situation, but when a patient comes in and is asked, “Which *squeak* are you *squeak* to see?” by someone with a perfectly serious face, the entire front desk starts giggling.
This in turn makes Squeaky start laughing too (mostly because it’s either laugh or stab us).
Have you ever heard someone laugh who has mostly lost their voice and is reduced to squeaks when a word or sound DOES manage to come out? Oh yeah! That’s some funny crap right there!
SQUEAKY: “Quit *squeak* guys!” squeaky squeakidy squeak squeak squeak <– her laughing.
US: “________________” <– laughing so hard that no sound is coming out at all!
What was also funny was when a dental assistant was asking a question and one of us answered (incorrectly) and Squeaky was trying to put her two cents in (to be fair, she is the office manager so I suppose she might know a little more than we do).
So there she was, waving like a mad woman because her squeaker stopped working momentarily and the rest of us had turned back to our jobs. The assistant was walking away at that point, about to do whatever shit we said to do that would no doubt get us all blown up or something.
Suddenly you hear a BANG, BANG, BANG as Squeaky furiously hit the desk to get our attention.
By then the whole conversation was a lost cause anyway because when everybody turned to see her waving madly in the air with a totally helpless and annoyed look on her face, they started laughing so hard they almost died.
Now let me tell you about another situation that still has me laughing my ass off to this day.
One of the receptionists, we’ll call her ‘Goldfish’ since she seems to have a disturbing addiction to ‘the snack that smiles back’, takes the bus to and from work every day.
Well one day, apparently bored with her serene life of tasty fishy shaped treats, Goldfish decided she was going to live dangerously and do something incredibly athletic.
Let me add…she has guiltily confessed to hanging clothes from her unused elliptical machine, so this sudden desire to show off her sporty side came as something of a shock.
She was actually supposed to be meeting me at a restaurant with a few friends for drinks that night, but now I’m left to wonder if the real reason for her suicidal high jump was because she didn’t quite know how to break it to me that she actually didn’t like me and would never be seen out with me in a million years.
I’ll deal with that later.
Anyway, I got a text from her just before we were going to meet, and though slightly garbled and not making too much sense (probably from the pain of having her leg almost ripped from her body), she managed to tell me what happened.
From what she typed, I gathered that she got off the bus at her stop, was ‘racing’ across the road to beat traffic (my first hint that she had decided to get all exercisey all of a sudden), then upon seeing a snowbank blocking her path, decided that she should use her new found athletic ability to JUMP! IT!
Here’s what I think happened:
She started jogging across this busy street all marathon-runner-like.
Came to this INCREDIBLY LARGE snowbank that was blocking her path and the only way she could get out of oncoming traffic (I started contemplating her sanity at this point).
Decided that the 2 second jog (and very recent start to her new exercisey way of life) was sufficient enough for what she planned to undertake next.
Reached the ‘little’ snowbank (I’m thinking the jogging had her delirious by now. Maybe she was dehydrated and hallucinating).
Threw her hands in the air.
Soared like a ninja.
Panicked mid-air after realizing the ‘little snow bank’ was in actuality MOUNT FUCKING EVEREST!!!
Started flailing and saying things like, “Oh holy crap shit fuck!”
Immediately wished she were back at her desk safely eating her goldfish crackers.
Landed on the snowbank with her right leg.
Felt immediate relief followed by immediate terror as her leg continued on through the snowbank and into hell.
Felt her knee pop (eeeew!)
Continued her decent into the bowels of snowdom.
Ended up sprawled helplessly upside down on the snowbank with traffic careening terrifyingly toward her head (I may have embellished somewhat for dramatic effect).
Prayed even harder for cute smiling fishy crackers.
And avoided certain death by pure luck alone.
I have renamed her ‘Gimpy’.
Gimpy now hobbles through the office with a huge metal knee brace, goldfish crackers safely tucked under her arm, mumbling to herself occasionally about which clothes will be hung on the elliptical machine that night.
Now you understand why I love my job. All of the staff are completely awesome and the story fodder for my blog is seemingly endless. What better combination could a writer ask for?