Eating watermelon makes me sad that it's still -10 and lower (higher?) outside. You had your chance, Winter. YOU HAD YOUR CHAAAANCE. The watermelon I speak of was one measly chunk scavenged from the leftover bowl o' fruit provided for the tight-bunned, pinky-lifting, nasally batch of lawyers during their meeting at work today. (This is a sweeping generalization and does not apply to the pleasant, humble and down to earth bunch who I have come in contact with/am related to - Starcastic Beeotch, haiiii - and whom possess full use of their sinuses.) Back to my point, however; summer fruit eaten after windstorms and arctic temperatures recently returned to wipe out the freak streak of ridiculously warm and lovely weather caused serious symptoms of SAD for me this afternoon. (That's an acronym, not a word. Ya don't know, Google it.) Speaking of which, the work week has now come to an end and it's safe to say that the highlight of it was the confused gentleman who happened upon our business Wednesday afternoon. It went something like this:
Man walks past window, carefully reading business name and description on the door (all the while clad in an intensely dark and circular pair of sunglasses), almost passes by and then rethinks it and backs up again to the door. Man opens door and sticks head inside but not a limb more. Enter inquisitive and apprehensive receptionist (yers truly): "Hello." Man replies by entering through the door completely. Still no words. Looks around as though trying to make sense of where he is and how he got there. Curious/increasingly terrified receptionist: "Can I help you with something?" Man mutters to himself that perhaps he is in the wrong place, which consequently eases receptionist's mind and reassures her that he must have a legitimate question of some sort. "Do you speak French?" he asks. Receptionist apologetically tells him that no, she does not. Enter Boss Woman.
Boss Woman: Hello, how can I help you?
Man: Do you speak French?
Boss Woman: No, I don't but there is someone here who does.
*Retrieves Boss Man*
Boss Man: Hi there, what can I do for you?
Man (in ENGLISH): Do you want to buy this?
*opens plastic bag to reveal used pot with a price tag on it reading "$14"*
Boss Man: No, thanks. I'm good. Sorry about that.
Man leaves. Guess he wasn't in the right place after all.
Boss Man: Why did you tell that guy I wanted to buy a used pot?
Confusion for everyone.
I usually make love to the pooch at work, so I welcome strange and unpredictable interruptions such as this. Poor guy. I wonder how he came to the the price of $14. There must be something about that used pot that only he knows about. It should probably stay that way.
There will be no more pooch love for the next little while, however. It is apparently transcript season and every law office in the province has called to order transcripts from previous meetings. I'm pretty sure one of the lawyers from the last one I typed was Tom Hanks. In the one I started today, a combination of Mila Kunis/Elisha Cuthbert/the ginger from Glee seems to be leading the questioning. So far, no John Travolta. On that note, I leave you with a little game of "Spot the Differences":
Man walks past window, carefully reading business name and description on the door (all the while clad in an intensely dark and circular pair of sunglasses), almost passes by and then rethinks it and backs up again to the door. Man opens door and sticks head inside but not a limb more. Enter inquisitive and apprehensive receptionist (yers truly): "Hello." Man replies by entering through the door completely. Still no words. Looks around as though trying to make sense of where he is and how he got there. Curious/increasingly terrified receptionist: "Can I help you with something?" Man mutters to himself that perhaps he is in the wrong place, which consequently eases receptionist's mind and reassures her that he must have a legitimate question of some sort. "Do you speak French?" he asks. Receptionist apologetically tells him that no, she does not. Enter Boss Woman.
Boss Woman: Hello, how can I help you?
Man: Do you speak French?
Boss Woman: No, I don't but there is someone here who does.
*Retrieves Boss Man*
Boss Man: Hi there, what can I do for you?
Man (in ENGLISH): Do you want to buy this?
*opens plastic bag to reveal used pot with a price tag on it reading "$14"*
Boss Man: No, thanks. I'm good. Sorry about that.
Man leaves. Guess he wasn't in the right place after all.
Boss Man: Why did you tell that guy I wanted to buy a used pot?
Confusion for everyone.
I usually make love to the pooch at work, so I welcome strange and unpredictable interruptions such as this. Poor guy. I wonder how he came to the the price of $14. There must be something about that used pot that only he knows about. It should probably stay that way.
There will be no more pooch love for the next little while, however. It is apparently transcript season and every law office in the province has called to order transcripts from previous meetings. I'm pretty sure one of the lawyers from the last one I typed was Tom Hanks. In the one I started today, a combination of Mila Kunis/Elisha Cuthbert/the ginger from Glee seems to be leading the questioning. So far, no John Travolta. On that note, I leave you with a little game of "Spot the Differences":
 |  |
CAN'T UNSEE.
Haha, thanks for the shout-out. Good to know I'm a lawyer that's not of the tight-bunned variety. Those are the worst.
ReplyDeleteAnd I'm glad we're on the same Ke$ha wavelength, haha ;)