Thursday is officially dedicated to the delights of working in a cubicle. You get quite close to those tapping away around you, their annoying habits, phone-isms, horrendous judgement errors, and smelly tuna fish sandwich lunches.
Here to help me is my good friend, Masta' Shake. I dedicate today's posting to that wonderful cubicle neighbor I lovingly call "Riverdance" or "Thumper" after his propensity for tapping his heels loudly all day long. I kid you not.
Thumper spent two whole days injecting every conversation with a mention of his upcoming tee-time. Here's one of his gems:
I have this special approach to the game that if I go in thinking I'm gonna' lose my balls, I lose my balls! So if I don't go in thinking about losing my balls, I don't lose my balls.."
Now this conversation went on for a lot longer, but I was already distracted by how many times a man can say the word "balls" in a conversation. I was also struck by how his tone of voice emitted a quality that would say to any listener (and every member of cubicle land was subjected to this) that this was a profound and deeply meaningful approach to golf. But I have to admit I suffer frequently from a streak of immaturity and hearing the word "balls" at least half a dozen times was too much for me to stand. Balls balls balls balls. The next week I wanted nothing more than to ask Thumper if he lost his balls. It's still a pressing question...Maybe next week we will have our answer. Did Thumper lose his balls?
2 comments:
Inquiring minds want to know, what happened to his balls damnit!!!!
Well, the next monday he was surprising quiet, so I think.... HE LOST HIS BALLS!
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