Many people don't know that in addition to being a Technical Writer and Extreme Telecommuter, I am also a professional wrestler and member in good standing of the World Wrestling Federation. I was even next in line for a shot at Ric Flair and the championship belt until I jumped ship to wrestle Hulk Hogan in an unsanctioned bout in Manila last summer. You can say what you want about the sanctity of a championship belt, but for me the Hulkster has always been it. I couldn't possibly pass up the chance to do battle with such a titan of the squared circle. Here you see me at last week's prefight news conference, engaging in the time-honored tradition of trash-talking your opponent over the camera, taunting him with oaths and curses that would make a sailor blush. Next to me is my tag team partner, Tom. Tom is under sedation, here, so he really doesn't have much to say. Just wait 'til we bust an ammonia capsule under his nose, though! Then you'll see some action!
So, it's Friday! The last day in the work week. A chance to tie the loose ends together and head out on the weekend, looking for adventure. So far, I'd kept to my schedule -- one help file per day -- but today was the acid test. If I didn't finish my last help file today, all my hard work would be for naught and I'd be looking at working on Saturday. So, I got my game face on. Narrowed my eyes into slits. Set my mouth into the Grim Look of Purposefulness. Nothing would stop me.
Well, nothing but Extreme Coworker Giddiness. This is the dark side of working onsite that I threatened to show you a few days back. Now, before I start this tirade, I should make a few disclaimers. First off, by the by, I really dig my coworkers. They're all swell folks. Secondly, I'd hate to hurt their feelings. And, finally, I do the same thing I'm about to complain about all the time. But, dagnabbit, it is nigh on impossible to get any work done when folks keep dropping by your office to discuss the Dow Jones Average, the Warriors' glut at point guard, their problems with management, or the sociopolitical significance of naming your child, "Uwe Blab." Dang hard. And Friday is the day for the real chit-chatters to come out of the woodwork. Everyone's tired of working and is ready for the weekend. Plus, they're wearing casual clothes, too, so they feel like they're just hanging out with you on some social occasion. And once they start -- hoooo boy -- I pity the fool who tries to stop them. Oh, sure you can drop the usual hints -- tap your fingers idly, make frequent furtive glances at your computer screen, hum the chorus to the Run-DMC opus, "You Talk Too Much," (sample lyric, "Your mouth's so big one bite could kill a Big Mac") but they won't get it. Prattle and chatter are all you'll hear. My new technique for getting rid of unwanted yappers -- kicking them in the shins -- didn't work either. All that got me was a lecture from my manager about maybe not needing to come onsite so frequently and an appointment with a Sensitivity Therapist. So, I just ignore them now. Put on my headphones and work while they talk. They don't seem to require a response from me for the conversation to go on, so this seems to satisfy both our needs.
| So, whaddya say, is it 'bout time to fire up the ole Kristanne Surveillance System and see what she's up to today? Now, today's agenda as I heard it was supposed to include, "macrame, macrame, and more macrame." No, waitasec, that's not it. Let's see, here it is -- "Today I will be creating busts of the royal family using bits of toothpicks, Elmer's glue, and scratch-'n-sniff strips from Cosmopolitan magazine. After that, I will engage in a rousing half-hour of full-contact origami, ending the afternoon by cooking you a piping fresh dish of Shiatsu Surprise." Sounds good, huh? But I'm wise to her tricks. Let's tune in the old surveillance system and see what she's really up to. | |
| Ahah! Just as I suspected. Flagrant toenail painting, right here in the middle of the afternoon. Holy Estes Kefauver, has she no shame? At long last, has she no shame at all? All I know is that my Shiatsu Surprise better be durn tasty, I tell you. Durn tasty! |  |
Well, I guess it could be worse. She's probably just getting ready for her origami session, right? Taking a little break from her busy day?
Yeah, that's what I thought, too. That's what I thought until I saw the picture below. Oh, no. Oh, man. It's worse than I thought. Much worse.
Yep. It's Geraldo. Turns out that Kristanne was laboring mightily to conceal from me the depths to which she had sunk. Trash TV. Daytime talk shows. Sally Jesse. Leeza. Jerry Springer. The works. We got her into a self-help program and are now trying to put the whole sorry episode behind us. Your thoughts and best wishes are much appreciated. We're just gonna keep taking it one day at a time, and together, maybe we can beat this thing.
After this shocker, I managed to pull it together enough to finish off my help file and, in doing so, my work for the week. I headed back to San Francisco to meet Kristanne and Vince. There, a fellow named Tom (who everybody kept referring to as, "Dong!") and his friend Kent joined us for a hot pot all you can eat dinner at a Korean restaurant. This was kinda fun -- each table had a pot of boiling water in the middle surrounded by a hot grill. You went up to a big buffet and picked out the ingredients you wanted to cook, ranging from chicken gizzards, to fresh shrimp, to broccoli, and back to assorted pork innards. When you had what you wanted, you brought it all back to toss in the pot or on the grill. It was fun. Unfortunately, it was also expensive. Had Kristanne realized it was so expensive, she probably would've eaten more than a couple shoots of cilantro and some broccoli. On the bright side, it was very good cilantro.
Nourished, we all headed out to the Shamrock, the second oldest bar extant in San Francisco, I'm told. There, we met more friends -- Doug, Todd, Edna, Tony, Bruce, and Andy among them. We spent a good time talking and sharing beers before retiring to the comforts of the Vince and Jen condo for the rest of the evening. Finally, we slept, hitting the hay around 3:30 in the morning. This meant that I had been up for almost 22 hours. Pretty cool, eh? Sleeping in would be sooooo good. Find out if get to do just that next time on the Odyssey! We leave you with this brother and sister shot of Vince and Kristanne, hanging out and having fun.
Total Miles for 8/22 = 82