This morning’s show would be brought to you by Red Bull…but no, some slack-jawed mouth-breather took it upon him- or herself to drink my last can of Red Bull over the weekend. So here I sit on a Monday morning with a bad case of the Red Bull DT's.We recently gave up the official BizRadio Network refrigerator so that our landlord could place furniture in the commons between the broadcast studios here. Now, the lunches and beverages are co-mingled in a large refer in the company kitchen…open to all. Easy pickings for people with low scruples.
I guess my lonely can of Red Bull was just too much to resist, what with all the extra cans of Countrytime Lemonade and Coca Cola on hand, just for the taking.We also contributed Nestle's ice cream “Drumsticks” to the public good, recently. I had 'em delivered to the broadcast operations center for the folks who work behind the scenes.
I am told there was a feeding frenzy over the weekend, as the foriegn-language programmers across the hall discovered the cache.
Guess that just wasn’t enough.
Still no respect for others' stuff.
How do you say "thou shalt not steal" in Chinese?
So today’s show is brought to you by the office kleptomaniac.
The one who drank my last Red Bull.
I hope he has to pee all day long…
1 comment:
Long ago when I was a teenager my Mom would send me to work at the plant with a lunch. Someone discovered that my Mom made pretty good lunches. After several times I took action.
I put salt, a lot of salt, mixed with tabasco on my raost beef sandwich. After it disapeared I told the office bigmouth that I had poisoned it with rat poison.
The had the dumb a$$ strapped to the gurney of the ambulance when they came and got me to ask what kind of "poison" I had used, and I told them "salt and tabasco sauce". I thought the EMT was going to wet himself laughing.
The jerk tried to get me fired, but the boss questioned why he was eating a sandwich in a bag with my name on it. the rest of the employees, who pretty much all had stuff swiped before over the years, convinced him that he should quit.
Of course today he would sue me for "mental distress", but I still laugh when I remember him, sweating like a pig in terror, strapped to the gurney thinking he was going to die.
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