Tag: work

The Mustard Guru

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I am waiting for a process on this server to finish.
The progress bar is stuck at 27 percent.
“A watched progress bar never completes,” says the guru in the cubicle next to mine.
So, I turn off the monitor.
The guru turns it back on. “Can’t do that,” he says.
I close my eyes. He smacks me on the back of my head.
“Ouch.”
He hands me a packet of spicy mustard from his lunch.
“Smear that on the monitor,” he commands.
So, I do.
He smacks me on the back of the head again.
“Now, lick it off.”

Ceiling Fan

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I good salesman.
I sell ceiling fan to anybody.
I sell to The Pope.
He say his church, it too hot.
Ceiling fan, it a work? He ask.
You try, if it no work, you give back, I say. No pay.
The Pope, he rich, but he no stupid. He like no pay if no work.
We shake hands, share a pizza. Nice wine.
He buy fan, say put it up in my church.
I look, whoa. Tall ceiling. I need big ladder.
I put ceiling fan in chapel, right on Adam’s bellybutton.
It not pretty, but it a work.

Chocolate Chips

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Willy Wonka became obsessed with the idea of a chocolate computer using chocolate chips for memory and processing.
“Usually, Mr. Wonka, your ideas are just goofy,” said the chief of the Oompah Loompahs. “But this one’s downright stupid. We make candy. Really good candy. And we make a lot of money making it. Computers, on the other hand, are low-margin. And the investment in material science research will cost a fortune.”
Willy just wouldn’t let the idea go, so the Oompah Loompahs locked him in his office until the ambulance arrived.
During the weirdo’s extended absence, things ran rather smoothly.

Caulk

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I stood over the sheriff with my caulking gun, a ribbon of white goo still swinging from the nozzle.
The sheriff was confused. “Do you know how hard it’s going to be to get this crap out of my shirt?”
Not hard at all if you know what you’re doing.
You see, I run the town’s drycleaning shop.
Caulk is easy to get out of a shirt. Easier than blood.
That’s why I gunfight with a caulking gun.
He gets up, draws his gun, and shoots me.
Great. A huge bloodstain on my shirt.
This’ll be a bitch to fix.

Faxcakes

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Every so often, we get someone who needs to send a fax.
I got careless with the office supplies and ran out of fax machine paper.
No, it doesn’t use the cut-sheet paper. It needs the old thermal rolls.
So I ended up loading the machine with pancakes.
That’s right. Rolled-up pancakes.
I didn’t expect to get a fax all day, and the office supply store was going to deliver another roll tomorrow, but I heard the phone ring and that telltale fax sound.
It printed, and I picked up the pancake.
They faxed a photo of butter and syrup.

Zaleski

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There is a package on my desk.
Inside rests the most unusual trophy I’ve ever seen.
Silver loving cup, red marble base, and a odd figurine mounted on the top. Two javelins pierce its chest, and it holds what looks like an electric coffeepot in its left hand, right fist to the sky in triumph.
Engraved on the base is the word “ZALESKI.”
Is this a name?
Is this a sport?
What have I done to earn this?
I place it on my desk, raise a fist, and shout “ZALESKI!”
My officemates shout “ZALESKI!” and we go back to work.

Dustsucker

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We used to clean these buildings by hanging a scaffold for guiding men with powerwashers and squeegies.
Now, we release Dustsucker Beasts on the ground, and they slide up the building to the top floor, leaving a streak of clean windows and bricks.
The trainer then leashes each beast, rides the elevator back down, and starts again.
It takes a third of the time and, when you consider insurance costs, much cheaper.
Until some idiot left a window open and wanted to pet a Beast.
So furry, so cute.
So acidic.
Inside rubber gloves, the trainer’s burnt, scarred fingers clench.

Sushi dealer

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The dealer skillfully floats the cards, gently landing in a pile in front of each of us.
He stands there with arms at rest, waiting for the first bet.
We stare back at him.
He doesn’t blink.
“We ordered sushi,” I said. “What’s with the cards?”
The plastic on the cards is starting to melt into the cooking surface of the table.
We look at each other. Did we go to a Japanese restaurant or a casino?
The cards are a mess.
Somewhere, in Vegas, a sushi chef is waving knives around.
He’ll probably get better tips than our dealer.

Shutterbug

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A while back, I had to go to a place and shoot pictures of an awards ceremony.
When I got there, I realized I had forgotten to bring any film.
I walked around, pretending to snap photos, but all I was doing was pressing the shutter.
No film, no photos.
So when the ceremony was over, the organizer tapped me on the shoulder and said “I guess there won’t be any pictures.”
I held up my camera. “I took a lot of photos,” I said. “Just gotta develop the film.”
The organizer reached over and took off the lens cap.

The Chicken Password

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Ever forgotten a very important password?
I once forgot the password to a secure system that didn’t have a way to recover the password.
It was so secure, the software author couldn’t even get into the system once it had a password added to it.
In the end, I had to go to a hypnotist to get them to dig around my mind to find the password.
They snapped their fingers, and I thought I was a chicken.
“Bawk!” I screeched, and I flapped crazily around the room.
The hypnotist typed in “Bawk!” and the system booted right up.