I said something inappropriate at work. This wouldn't be the first time, but it very well may have been the worst time. In my line of work I deal with a lot of attorneys, especially on the phone. A certain man called up about a motion he had submitted and upon realizing that he had made a grave mistake, (after being informed by myself) politely thanked me for my time and hung up. As I was relaying this story to my co-workers, I joked, "well, what was I supposed to say, you messed up BIG TIME Mr. So-and-So." They laughed and replied, "busted!" To elevate the fun, laughter and joke a little bit more I answered, "you're SCREWED Mr. So-and-So." I said screwed. The co-workers gave eachother shifty, uncomfortable looks and finally said, "well maybe not that far." I returned to my workstation, ashamed.
I had two main food experiences this week, one a drink, and one I can't even tell you because it would ruin the ridiculousness of the story.
The first: It was a particularly cold day in the office, (not outside:86 degrees, but inside where they blast you with air conditioning) and a co-worker of mine was feeling tired. I offered to go get coffee, and a cheer went up from the crowd. A second co-worker offered to buy me a drink as well, and not one to pass up free food, I accepted. Now, I'm not a coffee drinker. I don't really like it, and I hear it's bad for you. So I went with a chocolate shake.
Fast forward, one hour later.
I was tapping my fingers on the desk and bouncing my feet uncontrollably. Zipping from task to task, turning my head this way to that to this way to that. I was returning my pen to it's receptacle each and everytime I used it, even though I was using it about every 15 seconds. My voice shook as I spoke: I think my drink may have been caffeinated...! I looked it up online, and sure enough, 15mL of Caffeine RAGING through my body. I was basically, freaking out. Speaking fast and laughing at myself and everyone around me. I felt like I was on drugs. As my co-workers laughed at me, I grew curious as to how much caffeine pulsed through their veins. I looked up each of their regular coffe starbucks drinks online, and made them guess as to how much caffeine was in theirs. Their guesses? Since mine was 15...30, wait no maybe 45.
330. 330mL of caffeine in their coffees. That is 22 times the amount of caffeine that was in mine! Imagine me after drinking a cup of coffee--I would be bouncing of the walls.
The second: This story calls for a little prologue. I ride the max to work, everyday. I see the same people (for the most part, it's 7:15 in the morning) on the max everyday. So when I saw a new boy (about my age) on the max, and not only that but got off at my stop AND worked in my building, this was news. I have seen him each day since, and on the third day I spoke with him. We laughed at trivalties and told eachother about ourselves, but I didn't find out his name. The next day, I knew I would see him again, and wondered what his name was. Jokingly I thought to myself, "wouldn't that be the worst if his name is Shawn?" (my most recent ex is named Shawn.) There he was, on the max. We didn't speak, I had a seat and he stood. I looked around the familiar train and people watched. And then my poeple watching took a turn for the more interesting. Out of the corner of my eye, "eye" spyed a poptart. an uneaten poptart in a package (an open package). I looked around for judgemental glances, and when there were none to be found, I slipped it into my hand like it had been mine all along.
once off the max I spoke, for a second time, to the new boy in my building. I ventured, "I don't believe you ever told me your name...?" He replied, "I was about to say the same thing. I'm Sean." Shaun. Shawn. He was Shawn. I hope that my overactive mind didn't erase his real name and let me hear the name Shawn.
After my shock that not only was his name the same as my ex, but I had actually thought about that happening not 20 minutes before the fact, I pulled out the poptart. I told him, i'd found it open, on the max, for who knows how long, and that i wanted to eat it. I asked if he would take a bite with me. He refused. I hated him in that moment, and begged him. Pleaded him, cajoled him into taking a bite. He did it, he took a bite. (I took the remnants of the 'tart up to my office and devoured the rest of it.) He's a winner, I think.