23 February 2006

Three down, two to go...

Irish Bob comes into my office and closes the door.

“Did you toss a bug in my mouth yesterday?” he asks in an ominous tone.

“And they say I’m the loonie one! What the blazes are you talking about?” I respond incredulously, casually covering the insect carcasses on my desk with a TPS report.

“Something flew, or was tossed into my mouth during yesterday’s meeting.”

“Well, Bob, if I could control insects, I’d send a bee into Butt-Crack Joe’s bum cleavage.” It is an intriguing thought.

Joe is one of our larger technicians and refuses to wear a belt. He was bending over a floor mounted chiller this morning and fairly put me off my iced coffee. Luckily, he simultaneously provided a convenient drain for said frosty beverage, if you catch my drift.

Bob continues to give me the hairy eye-ball. He is not convinced, but it is time to go to today’s meetings where we shall have to explain the financial minutia of the Cap tables. I scoop up the TPS report and the pile o’ critters concealed below.

I have made a bet with wheezing Fred that I can make Bob eat 5 bugs this week. I have two left and stand to gain a pint of my choice, so this is very important.

Outside of the conference room, we pass a rather surly tech who is now wearing a jumpsuit.


And that's the way I likes it.