After the Big Move last week, it took me slightly more than 8 hours to realize that I now work in the employment equivalent of a frat house.
I thought that Genius Boy wanted me to sit next to him because he liked me.
Or didn’t like The Other.
Or to keep me away from Courtney.
Nope. He just wants me to be front and center when they make penis jokes multiple times a day.
My poster of Taylor Lautner?(I KNOW HE’S NOT LEGAL GAWD…dontjudgeme!) Apparently gives one of our pharmacists a pup tent.
In the last 3 days, I have learned the meaning of the word “meatgazing.”
On the bright side, I am now closer to Genius Boy’s desk and can steal his chips at lunch without even having to leave my chair.
*ponders the inestimable laziness of that last statement*
Just to give the world an example of what I have moved into, yesterday I was feeling uncomfortable (translation- the picture below was happening to my uterus)
– and I decided to use my heating pad for a while in the morning. I’m sitting there, working, minding my own business, when one of the guys comes up and stares at the heating pad.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.
I just stared at him. Because REALLY?! You REALLY need to ask me that!? You, who are married and have children, need to ask a woman what is wrong with her when she is sitting with a HEATING PAD IN HER LAP?!
After about a minute of blank staring, I finally replied, “I’m cold.”
“Why are you cold?! Put a coat on, “ he suggested assily (really, that needs to be an adjective. It would be so handy) and sauntered away.
Today, I was unobtrusively reviewing some doctor’s notes, when my super-sensitive hearing caught a conversation in Genius Boy’s cube behind me. Apparently Genius Boy was lending Yankees Fan the new “Transformers” movie, which is now out on dvd.
“Is Megatron in this one?” Yankees Fan questioned.
“Yup,” Genius boy replied.
“What about so-and-so?”
“Yeah, him too.”
“Well, I just thought that since he supposedly DIED in the last one-“
“Nah. He’s back. And Megan Fox is in it again too.”
“Oooo. She’s smokin’ hot. How does she look on Blu-ray?”
At which point I threw up in my mouth. Because ew. Megan Fox. And honestly. How would Blu-ray make her look one iota different?! Perhaps I should do an experiment and see if Brad Pitt’s abs in “Troy” are considerably different on dvd and blu-ray. Too bad I’m so busy and important and will probably not get to it. Hmph.
Even my choices of lunch of here are apparently worth taking notice of. Today I brought in a piece of salmon pie, one of my mom’s best. Basically chicken pot pie, but substitute fresh salmon and add some dill- it’s the perfect fall food. Dad and I will fight over it.
I had just gotten back to my desk from the microwave and was getting ready to enjoy it when two of our pharmacists walked up.
“What is that?” one asked, after surveying my dish with the perfectly golden crust and delicious smell of salmony goodness.
“BLECH”, the other one piped in, making exaggerated gagging faces. I rolled my eyes at them and started eating. On they walked to the next cube, where Genius Boy was eating a sandwich from Sheetz.
“Ooooo, Sheetz!” they both noted excitedly.
WTF. Homemade pie vs Sheetz?! How OLD are these men?!
A little while ago, one of our medical directors came over to my cube and looked at me quizzically.
“Are you the type of person that reaches for the stars?”
I wondered for a moment if it was a trick, and then said, “Yes, I’d say I am.”
He held out his hand, and was holding a baseball-sized lump of rock. I took it from him.
It was surprisingly heavy, and the surface was cratered and pockmarked. The outside was blackened and melted, like tar, but in the gaps you could see porous metallic stone.
“Do you know what that is?” he posed.
“I’d guess it’s a meteorite,” I hazarded.
“Confirmed by two geologists,” he verified.
I sat there for a moment, holding this chunk of rock, and realizing how far it may have come to end up here in The Frat House, in the Lego Block of Doom.
It was one of those moments that you’re not expecting, when you suddenly get smacked with perspective.