Dear Doug,
April 9, 1999
I work with a bunch of people who love to celebrate their birthdays. I'm pretty tolerant about it, because no one claims to have more than one birthday each year. In other words, ten people? Ten occasions during which we stand at the filing cabinets, eat cookies, and try to pretend that we're not way behind on work-related things. (Funny how we're all way behind on work-related things, yet we're NEVER behind on birthdays. I have never ONCE attended a "Happy Belated Birthday" gathering at the filing cabinets. Our priorities are intact. And for that? I am grateful. And full of chocolate chip muffins.)
Anyway, today was my boss's birthday. And when a boss's birthday hits, all stops are pulled. To illustrate: I can normally be talked into bringing a dozen bagels in for a team member's birthday. Today? I brought in TWO dozen bagels (fresh from the bakery! I got up early for that trip!) with assorted cream cheeses, a package of those weird iced cookies that never get hard, AND a homemade (by me!) cherry cobbler WITH COOL WHIP! I hesitate to mention the bouquet of flowers and the gift, because I'm really starting to sound like a big Old Navy Dress-Wearing Kiss Ass. (Sadly, the dress fits. But it won't much longer if I continue to celebrate birthdays in this manner! Elastic!)
At approximately 10:00, I began to hear a buzz that the time had arrived to celebrate. I made my way over to the filing cabinets (such a convenient buffet set-up, no?), filled my plate (because there was so much food! I BROUGHT PLATES, TOO!), and scoped out some people who I knew would NEVER spend birthday time talking about ISBNs and book proposals and whatnot. Success! Asiago cheese bagel, weird iced cookie thing that will never get hard, and three friends bitching about nothing in particular and planning the next happy hour. Perfection.
Ok. You know that thing that happens when you have a group of ten people or so and everyone is talking but suddenly everyone STOPS talking and then someone cracks wise about the phenomenon during which everyone is talking but suddenly everyone STOPS talking? We had one of those moments. And shortly thereafter, our team's assistant fell down.
Our team's assistant is the nicest girl you'll never meet. She wears plaid. She is a Sunday school teacher, and not a very good proofreader. (And I know those two things aren't necessarily related, but Maybe They Are.) Anyway, I'm making this up, but: some psychics say that if you open yourself up, you will feel things that the rest of the world doesn't feel. Like Spirits. Or Ants in Your Pants. I'm convinced that our team's assistant (who often wears wedges), feels slight shifts in atmospheric pressure. And I'm also convinced that the pressure changed during that birthday celebration. And maybe that's what caused the rest of us to stop talking. In other words, what was a small blip to everyone else in the room was a huge WHAM to the assistant, and suddenly she was on the floor.
And that's how the party ended. We sang our obligatory "Are You Okay?" songs, and then we all went back to our respective offices.
And I can't speak for anyone else, but I can assure you that I spent the next fifteen minutes laughing until tears rolled down my face.
Remind me to tell you about the time the assistant delivered mail to my office with BLOOD trickling down her face.
I can barely even write that sentence without crying.
I hope you are well and upright.
Love,
-A
Submitted by
You can call me, 'Sir'
at 4/9/2008 11:08:32 AM- Yeah. That would've made an incredible illustration.
Submitted by
FP
at 4/9/2008 11:10:37 AM- Well, hell. Now I feel like such a disappointment. My words will never again be Good Enough, will they?! Those damned illustrated letters!!!
Submitted by
Susan
at 4/9/2008 11:55:03 AM- I'm guilty of laughing at people at the most inopportune times - like when they hurt themselves. It's not like I really think it's funny but I can't help myself. A nervous gesture I guess.
Submitted by
Courtney Watson
at 4/9/2008 12:01:04 PM- I think the mental image of the assistant collapsing is sufficient- it is always slightly more cartoonish than expected!
I am waiting for details on the "blood running down her face" part. Holy beejezus!
Submitted by
MammaLoves
at 4/9/2008 12:04:57 PM- OMG! That assistant. Poor child. Hope she looks out for falling pianos.
Submitted by
Em
at 4/9/2008 2:08:40 PM- Is that what is going on with my daughter?? I thought she had some kind of Ally McBeal disease. Maybe she is just feeling blips as whams! It all makes sense now!
Submitted by
Alli
at 4/9/2008 6:41:09 PM- She was probably one of those kids who had to wear a helmet all the time.
Submitted by
Mari
at 4/9/2008 8:30:09 PM- Oh. The cookies which defy all scientifically-proven laws for baked goods. I used to love them, and now I start to twitch when I pass them (and their eerie sprinkles), because my brain can't understand WHY THEY NEVER TURN STALE.
Doug needs art classes.
We need illustrations!