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1:57 p.m. - 2004-11-16
Love in an Elevator

On the way downstairs to grab some lunch, I think I surprised some people fooling around in the elevator. I didn't see any nudity, mind you. However, the guy was leaning against the back wall of the elevator, and the chick was stuck to him tighter than a Republican to an assault rifle. When the doors opened, they jumped apart like someone had just turned on a cold hose, made some (very belated) comment about thinking they were at the ground floor, and after another awkward silence, they started having a completely random conversation. Snicker.

Today has been kind of an elevator-y day, I guess. This morning, as I was on my way upstairs (only 10 minutes late), a repairman guy pushes the button for the 11th floor. As I'm hopping off, he asks how he gets to the 12th floor. I explain that there's another elevator for that. However, since the poor guy seems so crushed for not paying attention to the wall sign which clearly states that the elevator he got in only goes to the 11th floor, I direct him to the freight elevator, which visits all the floors. It's just slow and stinky.

In the back of my mind, I'm thinking that the 12th floor is my company's "main" floor (although we're not the only company on that floor). However, since I was already late, I didn't really think about it too much. Well, about 15 minutes later, as I'm coming back to the office with my coffee, elevator guy is speaking to my co-worker about repairing our shredder. I make a comment about wishing I'd known where he was going.

Let me just take this opportunity to bemoan my culinarily-inclined co-workers. They are always bringing food. And it's not healthy food, either. Today's contribution: some sort of gooey cake.

Usually, I am strong. I resist the snackies. But when you mention cake, my mouth starts watering and I cannot think about ANYTHING ELSE. It is taking every ounce of willpower I have not to go back in there and eat four more pieces. Just to show you how irrational and complete my devotion to cake is: I hate nuts. I despise them. Nothing ruins good (insert name of food item here) like nuts. When it's cake, though, my hatred for nuts is obscured by my love of cake.

Dear Supreme Being:

I realize that I sort of like, oh, blaspheme, disbelieve, etc. on a daily (okay, hourly) basis. But could ya just do me a little favor and make the cake be gone by the time I take a smoke break? Thanks.

Hugs and kisses,

PS. The next time someone makes cake, can you do a little mind-control to make them leave out the nuts?

Speaking of smoke breaks….I'm thinking it's time for one.



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