Friday, May 27, 2005

Call Me Jordan

Oh man, I just couldn't leave this one down --

Considering it happened fairly early this morning, it is possible that this particular person wasn't in their right-of-mind. None the less...

Side-Note: I'm back! So please stop harrassing me to post ;-)

* * *

So today I was fixing an elderly woman's computer, and this guy I work with, Chris, came with me.

"Hello, ma'am, we're here to fix your computer,” I say plainly, walking around to the other side of this woman's desk. I didn't know her name, and half of the time I don't ever care to find out.

"Oh I'm so glad you guys came,” She said, clasping her hands together as if she was rewarded a fine treat.

She gets up and promptly goes away, leaving us to figure out what was wrong and how to fix it.

"'Twas nothing, ma'am,” Chris says under his breath, tilting his head at her retreating back. Snickering, I sit down in the secretary’s former seat, logging into her computer. About a second later I figure out it is a printer problem.

The secretary comes back within 5 minutes, a steaming cup of coffee in hand.

"Oh, you are still here?" She says sweetly, as I'm hacking away on her keyboard. Chris has now moved over to the printer, trying to figure out if the connection is bad or if the cord somehow fell out.

"Yup,” I say curtly. I see out of the corner of my eye that she is watching me intently, a curious expression on her face. Chris, being satisfied that all of the cords are correctly connected, turns back around and contents himself by watching me type as well.

"You remind me of someone..." The secretary says slowly, taking off her glasses and cleaning them with her shirt. I look at her through the reflection of the computer screen. I notice that she is still staring at me as if trying to remember something important.

"Jordan." She says suddenly, and at that exact moment I slam my hands on her desk and turn around.

"Ma'am, do you have a problem with staring?" I say curtly, narrowing my eyes at her. I see Chris over her shoulder, trying hard not to laugh.

"Do you know a Jordan?" She questions, clearly ignoring my remark.

There was only one Jordan I could think of, but surely she didn’t mean Michael Jordan...

"Only one,” I say, trying to size her up, "Michael Jordan."

"That's the one!" She squeals, a gleam in her eye.

"What?!" Chris exclaims, looking from her to me. Slowly, I see a dawning of comprehension on his face. "Surely you don't mean that Jillian reminds you of Michael...?"

"Yes," The secretary cuts in, her tone sounding final, "Only younger..." The secretary trails off, and I look to Chris, who is staring at me as if seeing me in a new light.

I don't know whether to be flattered or mortally offended.

"You mean Michael Jordan, right?" I say slowly, looking at the secretary.

"Of course."

"The basketball player?" I say a bit slower and more loudly, making sure I wasn't hallucinating.

"Who else?"

"But...I'm a girl!!" I blurt out stupidly, a vivid poster that my brother had on his wall for years of Michael Jordan flashes into my mind.

"Maybe a white Michael Jordan, perhaps..." Chris says with mock thoughtfullness, unable to contain himself any longer. He's going to run with this one, I can see it already.

"Shut up you,” I snap at Chris, who is now practically rolling on the floor from laughing so hard.

"Well, I did mean a younger one!" The secretary says indignantly, striding away with a huff.

About 5 minutes later, Chris and I are walking back to work, having successfully rewired her printer into the computer.

"Michael...Jordan?" I say slowly, shaking my head and looking to Chris. He turns his head towards me, and starts laughing hysterically again.

"Man that was the weirdest thing I think anyone has ever told me!" I say, smiling and watching as Chris' belly-rolling laughter subsides. "I can't seriously even REMOTELY look like Michael Jordan."

"Yeah, only younger..." He says slowly, imitating the glazed look of the secretary.

I push him playfully.

"Well, if you get to be Michael Jordan,” Chris says seriously as I watch his large, Caucasian frame bobbing up and down as we walk, "Then can I be Will Smith?"

Saturday, May 21, 2005

Blog About Something


Sorry I haven't had time to post lately, and I've had less E-Mails because of it!

I know it's the summer and everyone is busy with jobs and just the summertime transition, and this includes myself!

Still in the transition of living at home, and let's leave it at that. :-)

I'll be blogging soon, but for now I'm letting Boredom on a Stick (BOAS) go for a bit.

Hope you all understand! :-)

Wednesday, May 11, 2005

Make a Turd Poem

Okay, so Deb has asked me (ever so nicely) to post a Turd Poem...

...Yeah. ;-)

I guess my post about playing with people's minds in the library will have to wait until the weekend. :-)


Turd in a Punchbowl.
I hate you.
Turd in a Punchbowl.
Get out, foo'!

Annnddd that's a wrap!

Oh and I guess I'm supposed to 'Tag' people with this?

Well, I tag Dan over at The Exciting Life of Dan, JP over at Ramenman's Blog and Garrison over at The Church of Steelle.

Enjoy! :-)

Friday, May 06, 2005

Use a Urinal

I know that some of you may immediately read this thinking:
"Oh my GOD you did not SERIOUSLY pee in a urinal, did you?!"

Well, Let me explain.

I was in the girls bathroom the other day on our floor, and I overheard this conversation while in there:

I walked into the women's bathroom.

"Hey Jessi,” A girl from my floor, named Michelle, says to another girl on my floor.
"Oh, hey Michelle,” Jessi says, turning on the water faucet.

I say nothing.

"Hey!" A voice pops in as the door swishes back into place.
"What is it?" I say, about ready to lock myself in a toilet-like cell, looking towards Meg, another girl from my floor.
"Is it okay if my boyfriend comes in here to pee?" Meg asks. I look to the other two girls.
"Well, it's fine with me,” I say, shrugging and banging my bathroom-cell door closed.
"Yeah, but why doesn't he use the other bathroom on our floor?" Michelle asks, referring to the guys restroom on the guy's side of the floor. (My floor is split in half -- half men and half women)

"Well, because he doesn't want to walk all the way down there," Meg says, flushing. At this point I'm thinking,
'Okay, so maybe the bathroom is kind of far away...'
"Okay, whatever," Jessi says, and Michelle must be giving some sort of nod or something that I can't see as I'm in the cell relieving myself.

Meg's boyfriend comes in about two seconds later.

"Woah!" He says, giggling like a schoolchild. "I haven't been in a girls bathroom since I was in grammar school!"

I flush my waste receptacle, and come out.

"Oh shush and just go already," Meg says, embarrassment lining her voice.
"Dude you guys have doors!" He says, giddy as I hear the plastic swing-door slam louder than normal in the toilet-cell that was next to mine.

"Oh god I'm so sorry about this," Meg whispers loudly on purpose, eyeing the stall in which her boyfriend was currently occupying.

"Oh it's okay," I say, laughing outwardly as I wash my hands.
"Yeah, flumph cou tak ne,” Michelle says through a mouthful of toothpaste and foam.

"What she said,” Jessi says, pulling open the swing-door and exiting.

"Man, I haven't used a toilet in awhile..." I hear Meg's boyfriend mumble audibly through the plastic door.

Michelle clears her mouth of foam, rinsing. She looks up about 3 seconds later, just as Meg's boyfriend flushes the toilet loudly and also slams the toilet seat back into place.

"Well, what do you use in the guy's bathroom?" Michelle asks, looking truly like she had no idea what the answer was.
"You're joking, right?" I say as Meg's boyfriend comes out of the toilet.

"No...don't they have toilets in there as well?" Michelle asks, digging herself in deeper.

The words hang in mid air, and I see Meg's boyfriend stop in mid-step, looking like he was torn between laughing hysterically or going over to Michelle and shaking her.

"That's GREAT!" Meg's boyfriend compromises by taking a large step towards Michelle and giggling slightly, his eyes bulging.

"No, really what do you go to the bathroom in?" Michelle asks, looking politely curious as she continues to stare at Meg's Boyfriend.

"It'll be okay Michelle, just shush now...just shush." I say, patting Michelle on the back gently a few times.