Caterwauling

So I was in Wal-Mart hell this evening, picking up cough drops, NyQuil (sweet nectar of the gods) and other drugs to kick this fucking case of typhoid, and I wandered into the clothing area. This guy came running into the area, looked around (but didn’t look in my direction, about five feet away), stopped dead in his tracks and emitted the loudest and nastiest expulsion of bodily fumes that one could imagine. Ick. I jerked my shopping cart and headed for the hills, and when he saw me, he jumped five feet and ran in the opposite direction. If I could have gotten through the barrier of methane, I would’ve pointed him toward the Gas X pills. *shudder*

I was working late tonight when I saw a strange car in the parking lot at work — the same car that’s always there late at night. And now that the office was broken into last night, I grabbed Angie and suggested we motor, so we could walk to our cars together. The person sat in his car for a long time, rustling around but not moving. I was brave enough to drive past and get his license plate, and I stopped a few feet away to leave a message for H.R. to tell her to run the plate. Of course, my phone kept vibrating in my hand, and I couldn’t make the call while the plate was still fresh in my mind, so I had to keep reciting the number till the phone stopped wiggling. I hope I recalled it correctly. *sigh* It’s bad enough that two cars have been stolen from the parking lot at my apartment (and I STILL have to park up the hill by the rental office ’cause there’s never a spot for me!); now I have to worry about being robbed at work … and, of course, being flatulated on at Wallyworld. Ugh.

I want to introduce new characters to the Veggie Patch Playset.

For the unfamiliar, I work for the Veggie Patch (or Club Medicated, take your pick). Shan and I came up with a “Veggie Patch Playset” that serves as the backdrop of our daily adventures. For a nominal fee, participants can secure a supplemental “Veggie Pak” full of samples of Zoloft, Xanax, Paxil, Prozac, fuzzy bunny slippers and pill cups.

Today we added “Skipper,” the newly promoted assistant for King Kumquat of the Veggie Patch (otherwise known as Cruise Director of Club Medicated). Skipper came from being Barbie’s sidekick. Do the math on that one.

We also added Popcorn Bandit (see two entries ago), formerly Candy Pig.

But the crowning jewel on our tiara of hysteria came when Shan was mentioning that, more than a week ago, somebody was supposed to give her something vital to doing her job. She still hasn’t received said item. I said that she’d have better luck asking Santa Claus for said item, because we have a better chance asking a figment of our imaginations than this real-live (sort of) person. Long story short (after some discussion of the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy), we renamed this dipshit the Halitosis Fairy. Instead of money under your pillow, you get a cloud of funk in your office.

Speaking of funk in the office, it’s clear that nobody cleaned the bathroom floors last night. It’s a fucking health hazard, the drops of blood that have been there for two friggin days. Ugh.

I’m getting sick. It’s official — I should’ve gotten a flu shot. Of course, it doesn’t help that the A/C is on in my building, blowing out the vents right above my desk. I sound like I swallowed a fucking frog. Of course, one might argue that I kiss a lot of frogs, and maybe I just sucked on one a little too hard.

Eh, forget that last part. I’ve used up my humor for the day! Anybody have a cough drop?

Truth in advertising is alive and well, my friends. …

My workplace never fails to amuse me.

So yesterday, our marketing director gave each department that she works with a huge popcorn tin. I don’t really work with her, but she did give a tin to Demure to share with the membership and newspaper staffs. In any event, the office Candy Pig was last seen stealing the tin from the executive staff. I think she even took it home. She raids everybody’s candy jars, but that was ridiculous — I even overheard other staff chastising her for being such a greedy little shit.

So Demure decided to take our departmental popcorn tin and lock it in her office last night, hidden in a corner. (Insert my snickering that it’s not, say, a toner cartridge or corporate credit card, but a $7.99 Wal-Mart popcorn tin!)

In any event, our offices were broken into last night. I probably left around 7, so it was after that. The weird thing is that nothing was stolen. Several offices showed signs of forced entry (not mine or anyone else I like, although, granted, that doesn’t leave many people!). I decided that it was Candy Pig who broke into all the offices, looking for popcorn tins. 🙂 Shan liked that and decided we should call her Popcorn Bandit from now on. 🙂

Related. …

That’s scary about the break-in last night. I’m always among the late shift — oftentimes I’m the only one here. I filed a report three weeks ago with H.R. to say that every night and weekend, there are shady people supposedly fixing their cars out by our dumpsters. It’s the same white car and black car, and there’s occasionally a silver Eclipse. I assume it’s a drug ring, but in any situation, it’s frightening to see 14 people and two or three cars at any given time. I had warned all my fellow employees that they shouldn’t park behind the building (which I do, because I can watch my car from my office) after hours, and I thought H.R. should officially step in and be proactive about us taking safety precautions. And she did respond to my report, saying that she would have the building management send a memo to all businesses in the building about suspicious activities and maybe giving us a list of ways to protect ourselves.

So, fast-forward to today, and don’t make me state the obvious that I never heard word one since my report. Cruise Director sent out an e-mail to all of us, stating things like, “In case you haven’t heard about the break-in” and “if you see anything suspicious, let us know.” It took all the power in me to not respond with, “What? And wait till I’m 35 for you to do something with my report?”

I told Shan that I’d like to see H.R. offer some type of safety or self-protection seminar, to respond to this. She said H.R. will probably rant (like always) that people hate it when she schedules things. I told her I probably don’t even have the time personally to attend such a seminar, but they need to show some sort of response and aftercare for their (mostly female) employee pool. Of course, there I go again, offering ideas and solutions and not being happy with the status quo. Bad girl. 🙂