Someone Had Better Clean That Up
Someone was going to take care of that massive pile of Jello(tm) boxes in the break room.
And it wasn't going to be me. Last time, it was me. And I nearly didn't make it. I would have been a wacky footnote in the history of a web startup. A story to be told to new hires and external people coming in for meetings for funding or partnerships or just meetings for the lack of anything better to do and empty, state of the art meeting rooms to show off. My buddy, Stoop, who took the name upon joining the startup, having been named a far too boring "John" when he was working for an investment banking firm prior. Well, he was the one who goaded me into doing it. Taking care of it, I mean. He was the kind of person, whom you might have guessed, was very into the whole web startup scene. And because he was so into it, we couldn't simply remove the boxes from the break room and put them into, say, the hallway, where some other tenant would have to deal with them. Or put them in the dumpster at the back of the building. Or even do something mildly wacky like fill someone's office or cube with the boxes. No. He convinced me that we should make the entire, well, I'm guessing it was a palette of the stuff, which looked like something like 300 boxes of Jello(tm), make all of it up, and eat it. Well, let me tell you, when making 300 boxes of Jello(tm), unless you're a school cafeteria chef, you're probably going to get a bit bored with measuring and quality control after about the thirtieth box and just start chucking water in willy nilly.
Which is not a good idea, if you plan on then eating the vast majority of the Jello(tm) you've made, when no one else in the office, curiously enough, want any.
So I studiously avoided Stoop all day, when I happened past the break room door and saw a few coworkers marveling at the sudden appearance of an incredible amount of Jello(tm) boxes. I also took a shocking amount of cigarette breaks, despite the fact that I don't smoke, and now owe quite a number of people a cigarette or two after I found myself unable to stand amidst the smokers, awkwardly, without a thing in my hands.
When I came into work the next day, finally leaving in the middle of a cigarette break, unable to bear the thought of having to go through Jello(tm) removal duties again, or to even be reminded of my last attempt, stopping to pick up a pack of Marlboro Lights when I noticed my hands fidgeting with my jacket lapel in a rolling sort of motion, the Jello(tm) boxes were gone from the break room. Don't ask me where they went. I don't want to know.
disclaimer:
We're off and away in Ireland this week, swimming in phosphorescence and Clare girls in bikinis.
So we're leaving you with this... an episode about... cleaning up. Something that is near and dear to our hearts, if only because we don't like to clean up and are often chastised for not doing so.
And no, Jello(tm) did not authorize the use of its product in this episode. Go figure.
SPONSOR MESSAGES:
Support Sane:
Tshirts & clothing: The Sane Magazine Shop at Cafe Press
- New designs trickling in now.
A Book: Fenway Fiction
A Second Book: Further Fenway Fiction
For you writerly types: Download Writer.app (which is free, so it's not really supporting us in a monetary, sugar daddy or mommy sort of way, but more in a "hey you guys go!" sort of way)
Or, visit our store at Amazon... check out some of the books that inspire or otherwise provoke the Sane Magazine writers.
Discuss this in the forums
Discuss the horoscopes in the forums
Forum hosting provided by forumthing.