I went down to the work cafeteria for lunch today and they had a sheet cake down there celebrating their 800th accident free day. This cake was free for anyone to take, and there was ONE piece left. As I watched in fascination, 3 different people approached the "last" piece of cake, cut it in half, and then scuttled off with the other half like some kind of sugar-deprived crayfish. So at that point is was nothing more than about 3 frosted cake molecules, but NOBODY took that last piece, dammit. I had a primal urge to throw the last piece of cake on the floor and pray that someone slipped in the frosting. "What happened to you?" "I broke my leg when I slipped and fell in the frosting of the accident-free celebration cake".
I would have baked them a "greatest victim of comic irony EVER" cake.
I also realized something else today - I DO know what despair smells like. Incidentally, it smells just like a man in his mid 40's who has just showered himself in Axe body spray in order to speak to the "eye candy" down on the second floor, apparently in the hopes that the fumes emanating off from his person will render her unable to detect what a total and overwhelming douche he really is as he continues to engage in behavior that would normally be considered "crude", even for a sailor.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment