Fully loaded

“Short work week coming up, eh, Wolf?”


“Not short enough.”


“Then go ahead, work on Thursday, you ungrateful dip.”


“I would rather have Friday off.  I mean, who takes a Thursday off and then works Friday?”


“Ask for it off.”


“I can’t.  It’s fully loaded.”


“Loaded?  With what?”


“It’s taken.  Not available. The maximum number of vacation days have been used.  So, the rest of us dummies will be working.”


“Look on the bright side.  You will have 2 Mondays this week, and 2 Fridays.”


“It really pisses me off that the holiday had to be on Ladies Night.  The pub will be closed.  Now I will have to make up for it the other 4 nights this week.”


“What a hardship that will be.”


“Zip it Minnie.  You know the pub depends on my business.”


“Oh for crazy.”


“I really should move to Ireland.  I bet the pubs there never close.”


“Settle down.  Shake it off.  Hey!  Isn’t Thursday your birthday?”




“It is too.”


“Nope.  I lied about my birthday.”


“So when is it?”


“April 20th.”


“What the hell?  You can’t arbitrarily change your birthdate.”


“Oh yeah?  I didn’t arbitrarily change anything.  4-20 came along and I was reborn.”


“Well, sorry, I missed your rebirth.”


“It’s ok, Minnie.  I didn’t.”





Slightly off kilter

“Minnie?  Are there signs when a person should see a shrink?”


“Sure.  The sign says:  If you are insane, enter here.”


“Shut up.  I mean, I have a friend, who is slightly off kilter.  Should she consider getting professional help?”


“What do you mean, slightly off kilter?”


“Well, she laughs uncontrollably when she hears a phone slam in the office, or when a co worker is having a serious conversation with an idiot or when someone in the next cube starts clucking her ass off.”


“Uh huh.  Keep it coming. Please, tell me more.”


“And she is a relentless instigator. She encourages dysfunctionality.”


“There is no such word as dysfunctionality.”


“Yes there is.  I work with it every day.”


“This friend of yours, is she a co-worker?”


“Not exactly.”


“What do you mean, not exactly?  Who is this psychopath?”


“That’s not important, and really none of your business.  I am just asking you if you think she could use some help.”


“Is this friend on medication?”


“Yes.  She self medicates.”


“Uh huh.  And could it be with booze?”


“I will have you know that she has a certified document from a reliable source that allows her to purchase MM.”


“What reliable source?”


“Doctor Beaver.”


“Mmmm hmmm.  Anything else?”


“Well, yes.  This friend has an acute nervous condition.  It starts every day at 501pm.  It is so disabling, that she has to stop on the way home, to get fortified.”


“Since when is fortified a synonym for drunk?”


“Just answer the question  Should she? Or shouldn’t she see a shrink?”


“No, Wolf.  Forget it. Not even a shrink could help an obnoxious, boozy, nincompoop, like your friend.”


“Are you saying my friend’s behavior is normal?”

“As normal as you are.”




A change from the ordinary

“It’s Friday!  And vacations are starting.  I think the next 2 weeks must be the prime vacation time of the year.  So many of my coworkers are either camping or going to the beach.”


“Are you taking any time off Wolf?”


“Sure.  Next Thursday.”


“I mean, any vacation time?  You really could use a week off, to relax and enjoy the summer.”


“Summer is not my cup of tea Minnie.  It’s humid, hot and stormy.  I would just waste away in the air conditioning.  Heck, I can do that at work.”


“You used to love to go camping.  What happened to you anyway?”


“Camping is great fun, if you like hauling a tin can around with you, parking it in the camping parking lot, sleeping in cramped quarters, and sitting by the fire on a steamy night.  Or setting up a tent, sleeping on the ground, getting eaten by bears and other night critters.  And there is no room service.”


“It’s more than that Wolf.  It’s all about the rustic life, meeting up with friends, and enjoying the simple things in life. It’s a complete change from the ordinary.  It can be adventurous and magical.  It’s all in your attitude.”


“Look outside, Minnie.  I think a monsoon hit us, with lightning, hail and heavy rain.  No.  No camping for me.  With my luck, the tent would leak and I would have to sleep in the car.”


“So, Miss party pooper, when are you going to take a vacation?”


“You know when I take vacation.  I always take it when we have blizzards and snow storms.”


“What fun is that?  You know we always lose power when we have winter storms.  No computer, no heat, no stove, no comfort.”


“Come on Minnie.  Where is your sense of adventure and magic?  When we lose power, we enjoy the simple things in life, a change from the ordinary. We hunker down, talk to one another.  No modern conveniences.  We go back to our pioneer days.”


“What’s so great about that?”


“Nothing, Minnie.  It’s a lot like camping.”



Entering a new era

“What the hell happened to you Wolf?  You are soaking wet?”


“What?  It’s a little humid out there, that’s all.”


“Humid?  My God, it is pouring rain.”


“It is?  Now you tell me.”


“Where the heck did you go tonight?”


“It was ladies night, you idiot.  We cougars are like the pony express:  neither rain nor humidity nor tornadoes will stop our mission into the night life.   We always deliver.”


“Have you cougars ever heard of umbrellas?”


“Sure we have.  We had one in every drink we had.  Pink, yellow, blue.   Very tiny. Very classy.  I even took one out with me when I walked in the flood to the car.  Damn thing disintegrated.  They don’t make umbrellas like they used to.”


“Did you have a nice time?”


“Of course.  There were 4 of us: the red head, the brunette, the blonde and the grey goose.  All of us, quite stunning.  In fact, so stunning, that the 42 TVs in the sports bar all froze at the same time.  One of them had a great shot of ARod’s heiney, frozen in time.  Oh the movie never ends, it goes on and on and on and on.”


“Geez, red head, brunette, blonde, sounds like Charlie’s angels.  Except for the grey goose.”


“Yeah.  There is always one idiot in every crowd, swimming to her car with a paper umbrella covering her 6 packs.”


“What the hell?”


“Yeah.  The goose ordered a couple of brewskies to go.  She always protects her stash, even in the worst elements.”


“Then what’s with the mud over all your clothes?”


“I entered the mud races on my way home.”


“Oh for dumb.”


“Ok.  So I fell in the creek, but if you noticed, my brewskies are safe and sound.”


“I hope you realize that you are passing the age of the cougar.  You know, cougars don’t fall into creeks with paper umbrellas.  You are entering a new age, Wolf.”


“What’s that?”


“The age of the albatross.  You really think Charlie’s angels want to hang out with a drunk, muddy, demented albatross?”


“Hell  yes, they do.”


“How do you figure?”


“I make them laugh.  I am a strange, goofy albatross.”


“Is that what ladies’ night is all about?”


“Of course. We meet to commiserate and a few minutes later, we are laughing our asses off.  We albatrosses know how to beat the blues.”


“What about your muddy clothes?”


“Oh hell, hang them up and I will wear them next week.  I hear it’s supposed to rain.”








A sparkling day

“It was 8 oclock this morning.  The day was destined to be a winner. I said it would be a sparkling day.  At 804am, it fizzled.  Down hill from that point on.”


“It took a whole 4 minutes to fizzle?  What the hell?”


“Yes, Minnie.  4 long grueling minutes, and it was all over.”


“But… you survived.”


“Let me put it this way:  I was in a plane, having a bloody mary, and the wings fell off.  I was in an elevator on the 41st floor when the bottom gave way.  I was up, up and away, in a gas balloon and someone lit a match.  I was riding an elephant when he saw a mouse.  I was wasting away in margaritaville when I ran out of tequila.  It was the 4 minute earthquake that created a sink hole.  And I was in it.”


“Ok.  So how was your day?”


“I took a deep dive, you idiot.  I was the low hanging fruit.  I was plucked to death by rabid chickens.”


“Hmm.  You do looked quite plucked.  To be honest, it seems to be somewhat of an improvement.”


“Shut up Minnie.  You don’t know what it’s like to be me.”


“Well, in the words of a famous softball coach, ‘Shake it off girl.'”


“How can you be so flippant?”


“It is what it is.”


“Oh, sure, and I suppose your next statement will be ‘this too shall pass.'”


“No.  Actually, I was going to say ‘if you can’t stand the heat, don’t stick your head in the oven.'”


“Are you insinuating that I can’t cut the mustard anymore?”


“Heck no.  I am just saying, find a part time job, and work from 8am to 804am.  You will be sparkling.”




Quitting time

“I don’t know if I can go in to work tomorrow, Minnie.”


“Now what?”


“E can’t sleep, so she will be dramatizing up her ass.  Beav is depressed so she won’t talk.  Oscar hates me.  And Babs will be a crabby Appleton.”


“What’s wrong with Babs?”


“Carl is off tomorrow.”


“Thank goodness you have Snow.”


“No, she says she has changed.  She says we all have changed.  She blames it all on E.”


“What does E have to do with it?”


“Well, before E moved into the back room, we were all pretty much normal.  Now, there is not one normal person in the bunch.  Even Carl has shut down.  The dysfunctional 6 pack is pretty abysmal.”


“How do you fit in?  Have you changed?”


“Of course I have.  I walk around with a pig puppet, with a hanging deflated balloon, asking if someone will give me a bj.”


“What in the world has E done to cause this major change?”


“Oh, she slams her phone. Wait.  You should see her phone cord.  It is all curly and shit.  It is a mess.  It’s from all that slamming.”


“It’s hard to believe that slamming a phone has had an impact on everyone’s behavior.  What else?”


“It’s the constant quitting.  E quits everyday.  But she shows up the next day.  We live in a world of inconsistency.”


“May I ask?  What did you do to make Oscar hate you?”


“Nothing.  I just show up everyday and razz the hell out of her.  I can’t help it if she sits across from me.  I see her at her desk, and my mouth opens up at 15 minute intervals and says crazy things.  I try not to say those things, but I see her there and she acts like a martyr, carrying reams of paper to the printer and checking every damn order in the world, and I just can’t stop myself.”


“What the hell?”


“Wait.  Here’s a typical situation.  I ask her what she had for lunch. She says chicken strips.  I say Strips?  And she starts doing that da dum dum dumm, da dumm dumm dumm. And pretends she is stripping.  It is completely and utterly unprofessional.  My mouth opens and I announce to the rooms that Pat is doing a strip tease.  She immediately goes back into the martyr role and acts like she is innocent.  I tell you, she hates me.”


“Well, are you going in tomorrow?”


“Yeah.  I have to.”




“I would never forgive myself if I wasn’t there when E quits.”




Blue moon, I saw you turning into a potato head

“I am swearing off blue moons and shock top, Minnie.  I am turning orange.”


“You can only turn orange if you eat too many carrots.”


“Then why aren’t rabbits orange?  Take a good look at me, Minnie.  The orange aura is turning me into a pumpkin head.”


“Aww, to hell with it. Stick a candle in your mouth.  I will light it.  And you can join the circus as the orange freak.”


“I have never liked the color orange.  It doesn’t go with anything.  And it doesn’t rhyme with anything.  Oranges are the sign of death in the mafia.  If a mobster spots me, I am a dead woman walking.  And I am Irish.  We Irish hate orange.  We love green.  We live for the potato.”


“Come to think of it, you do resemble a potato head.  An orange potato head.”


“See what I mean?  I have been reduced to a damn orange spud.”


“No, more like a rutabaga.”


“Shut up Minnie.”


“May I ask?  Did you have a rough day at work today?”


“What brought that up?”


“Your attitude. Normally, you don’t care if you are orange or if you are green.  You arrive at home, half in the bag, and write an obnoxious blog, which nobody reads.  You dink around half the night, and then turn into a pumpkin and hit the sack.  Maybe it’s time you had dinner.  Let’s eat.”


“Yeah, ok, what’s for dinner?”


“Uhm.. Well, duck ala orange, with carrots, and pumpkin bars, for dessert.”


“Forget it Minnie.  If I am destined to be orange, I am doing it my way.  Pop me another blue moon.”




Give it your best shot: fire away

“I’ve been thinking, Wolf.  It may be time for you to go to a rest home.”


“And what brings you to that lovely conclusion?”


“Well, aside from missing the target when you have to pee, there are certain questions that the long term care people ask, to see if you should be institutionalized.”


“Go ahead.  Ask me.”


“Can you make dinner for yourself?”


“No.  Why cook when a restaurant is open?”


“Can you bathe yourself?”


“I never take a bath, you idiot.  I jump into the shower.”


“Can you walk to the bathroom?”


“When I have to go, Minnie, I don’t walk.  I run.”


“Are you capable of driving?”


“Now that is debatable.”


“Are you in complete control of your mental faculties?”




“Can you dress yourself?”


“Not on weekends, no.”


“Do you know what day it is?  Month, day, year?”


“I know tomorrow is Monday.  Why did you have to bring that up?”


“Do you have short term memory loss?”


“Look, Minnie. What the hell are you talking about?  I thought we were going out for a beer.”


“Are you in good physical shape?”


“I was, back in the summer of 69.”


“Do you drink to excess?”


“Of course I do.  I am old.”


“What’s that got to do with drinking?”


“I figure I don’t have that many more years to drink, so I am giving it my best shot.”


“And the last question:  Are you a burden on your friends, family and society?”


“Not yet….. but I’m working on it.”




You are what you laugh about

“It’s strange, isn’t it?  The things people cry about.  Today, I cried when I saw a dead deer on the road.  Do you ever cry, Wolf?”


“Sure I do.  I cried this morning, when I looked in the mirror.”


“Don’t be facetious.  You are what you cry about.”


“Says who?  I think you are what you laugh about.”


“I challenge you to tell me about the last time you cried.”


“The last 5 chapters of Marley and me.  I cried so much, I couldn’t see.”


“And before that?”


“When Charles Barkley died.”


“Barkley didn’t die.”


“Yes, he did, you idiot.  Charles Barkley was my dog.”


“So you only cry over dogs?”


“Lately, yes.”


“What do you laugh about?”


“Just about everything.  I never have a day without laughter.  I find life to be so ridiculous that it makes me laugh.”


“Life is not funny, Wolf.  No one in his right mind says life is funny.  It is either tragic, depressing, challenging or demoralizing.  How can you laugh about it?”


“I am chemically unbalanced.  I take mind altering drugs for medicinal purposes.”


“Are these drugs prescribed by your doctor?”


“Yes and no.  He says a glass of red wine every day is good for you.  So I take that as an affirmation of my habitual ritual.”


“You really have a warped sense of living, Wolf.  Doesn’t it ever get to you?  The constant laughing and the numbness?”


“Yeah. It’s disgusting, isn’t it?”


“What a way to go through life, laughing your ass off and drinking wine everyday.  It is disgusting.”


“Terribly disgusting. Ooops.  I just spilled wine.  I might have to cry.  On the other hand, I might laugh instead.   I spilled it and it landed in my mouth.”






Don’t shake hands when you are holding a hunk

“It was so embarrassing, so tacky, so very uncouth.”


“Now what Wolf?”


“My face, Minnie.  Covered in honey barbecue sauce when Chris introduced us to her beau, Terry.  Chicken wings hanging off my teeth, hands full of sticky goo.  And napkins piled up on the table, almost reaching the ceiling.”


“I hope you didn’t shake his hand.”


“I reached out to shake and didn’t realize I had a hunk of celery, loaded with blue cheese dressing, in my hand.  That damn Oscar spotted the celery and immediately chomped on it.  Then she drank my beer.”


“You should know better than to invite Oscar to join you.”


“I didn’t.  I just mentioned that I was going out for beer and wings, and before I could whistle Dixie, she was stalking me.  She hopped out of her car, and said, “Surprise!”


“She likes wings?”


“Almost as much as she likes drinking my beer. I had to order 3 beers, just to get a sip or two.”


“So what did you think of Terry?”


“He loves cats, fishing, and Chris. Oh, and he has cute toes.  What more could you ask?”


“Sounds like a keeper.”


“Yeah, if only he were only 20 years younger, I would give Chris a run for her money.”