The Office Crusade

So, yesterday I started sending out e-mails to my co-workers, but not your typical work e-mails, no these are something much better.  So consider this the beginning of a long running series called the Office Crusade.  Below are the first 3 shorts

I was having a great morning, everything was OK.  The North Koreans were acting like complete buffoons claiming that if anyone attempted to watch them launch a satellite they would retaliate with a missile strike, so it wasn’t the best possible morning, but in the overall scheme of me, it was damn fine.  I went to the cafeteria, got myself a bacon, egg, AND cheese sammich on a lightly toasted English Muffin.  The aforementioned English Muffin was lightly buttered, making it quite decadent.  I gleefully ate my morning sustenance, letting my mind wander to the abstract places, found only when one concentrates on a sense, in my case that sense was taste.  I sauntered down to the kitchen area and fixed myself a hot cup of java.  I schmoozed with some of the IT guys and had them all laughing, this especially lightened my mood because a few of them will no longer be with us come month’s end.  I returned to my seat, happily drinking my coffee, finding myself in an almost euphoric daze, when suddenly and most dishearteningly, my grotesque monster of a neighbor began to rumble and churn.  The noises emanating from the beasts gullet resembled a middle school band playing Holst, or Beethoven.  The butchered airwaves assailed my ear lobes, cut through my wax, and pierced the serenity of my brain.  The feral pitch, forced my mind to a dark place, the kind of place only psychiatrists and lovers should ever see.  She spoke like a war drum of an advancing army.  Finally her sound waves crested, and retired back into the sea of her mouth; however the ebb and flow of words left my mind eroded.  I am already a shell of the person I was 20 minutes ago, and I fear I will never get back to that place.

Mondays always get a bad wrap, and it’s so unfair.  It’s all Jesus’ fault too.  If he was never born, then there would be no Christianity, if there were no Christianity, there would have been no protestant work ethic, with no protestant work ethic, Sundays, now having no meaning, and are actually the first day of the week, would most likely the first working day of the week.  Monday would now become just as blase as Tuesday, but secretly Monday would love it.  All its life, everyone hated Mondays, now people would be indifferent, Monday could enjoy going out to a museum, or a ball game without being victimized, but no, Jesus Christ had to go get hisself strung up, and now Monday, poor Monday suffers a fate worse than spending an eternity in hell.

When you arrive at work in the morning, leaving your cocoon behind, do you ever wonder how other people are directly or indirectly affected by your actions?  I took it upon myself to partake in one of the finer things in life this morning, a nice hot cup of coffee.  After walking 10 minutes in this morning’s bleariness, my spirits were low; I knew I needed something to revitalize my soul.  After procuring some griddled dough mixed with bananas and walnuts, and filling up on some fried potatoes, I sensed my being was still not one.  My heart left wanting, my brain running like a computer built in 1995, I knew what it was I was missing, coffee.  My brisk pace and direct line to the coffee maker indicated to the androgynous IT department that I was in no mood for socializing.  As I fell upon my Zion, I was greeted rather ominously by a seer.  Asking a plethora of questions, each building upon the last, the seer left a taste more bitter than the impending coffee in my mouth.  In what can only be described as tragic foreshadowing, the seer and his pet Valkyrie left with the slightest hint of a grin on their faces.  Showing no emotion on my exterior, but visibly shaken on the inside I began my coffee dance.  I shuffled to the left, reached in the jar of sweets, and with one sweeping motion tore open 3 rations and poured them directly into my grail.  With a deft spin, I found myself face to face with the selection of nectars.  I chose the one of my liking, and without delay begged the great beast, “BREW!”  I received a hushed murmur in response, not the great bellow I have grown used to.  I knew something was wrong.  The great java god began to expel its wisdom, except instead of the mocha brown of which I was accustomed, the liquid was transparent.  “egads!” I shrieked, as the rest of the liquid seeped from the bottom of the altar.  The human to coffee interface told me that there had been an error and I must contact an operator immediately.  “I will do no such thing” I retorted.  I removed the powerful machine’s façade, ripped out its container and lo and behold, I found my offering smashed and mangled being hung from his head.  “Who could have done this to you?” I asked.  The offering remained silent; it was no longer with us.  After begging and pleading with the great coffee god, I managed to wrestle my offering free and give it the proper burial it deserved.  I began the ceremony again, this time with no showmanship or elegance, the coffee god was appeased.  As I sit here writing, my mind wanders back to that seer.  Was he asking those questions to warn me of the impending doom, or maybe it was he who angered the coffee god in the first place?  My wisdom nearly done now, I must digress, but know now that I must track down this seer and extract from him the truth…


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: