Tuesday, December 06, 2005

Da funk

Went to work as usual yesterday morning. Was a tiny bit tardy, but in an office where rolling at twenty minutes after nine is de riguer, I still felt OK about that. Went to the Boston Deli and got a bagel as usual. I had crashed the firewall last night, but that’s not unusual, since whenever I try to do an rsync from my home machine, good things don’t continue to happen for extended periods. So, reboot the router and carry on with life.

But something was up. Rather, there was an abiding stench hanging around my desk. At first I thought it was just the occasional sewer smell we get in the basement. One of the many joys of working in an ancient building. So I stole a candle from our Money Queen and fired that bad boy up right by my monitor.

But I still kept catching a whiff of “nasty” every now and then. I asked everyone I saw if they could smell the stench and indeed they could. They agreed it was putrid and guessed that it was the sewer thing again. (In the building’s defense, the sewer thing hasn’t happened in a while, and though it’s pretty awful, I can only remember it happening one time in the five years I’ve been here).

The candle isn’t working.

Because I’m on a “drink a lot of water” kick right now, I had to pee. I go to the bathroom and I can smell the “nasty” there, too. Then it dawns on me.

I stunk.

I showered yesterday morning, of course. I had on laundered clothes. Though technically, I was wearing jeans I’d worn the previous day, I know for a fact that I didn’t roll around in anything gross on Sunday.

So naturally I stripped down to my birthday suit right there in the little boys’ room and sniffed everywhere. Sure enough, there be something totally funky on my Eddie Bauer pullover. A pow’rful, pow’rful funk. Like, Parliament Funkadelic and George Clinton kind of funk.

“But I washed this last night,” I say to myself as I’m standing in the little boys’ room, naked and still sniffing other parts of my wardrobe and OCD checking to make sure I’d locked the bathroom door, because having a co-worker walk in while I’m buck nekkid and nose deep in the crotch of my pants is not something I can easily explain away, “Weird.”

Now, though I was a tad bit embarrassed because I’d called attention to the funk to everyone I’d encountered (and even had someone sniff me tentatively and she confirmed that it wasn’t me (which turned out to be incorrect, obviously)), I was much more perplexed. I took an early (by 2.5 hours) lunch and went home and changed clothes. From whence came this foul stench?

It was Jonah… that adorable little cretin. He had used my Eddie Bauer pullover to puke on the other night. I had washed it (twice as it turned out!), but his potent puke remained.

What a shame I’m going to have to throw the thing out. (The pullover, not Jonah). Obviously, this is a funk which has no intention of leaving.

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Holy Crap! Look at all this STUFF down here. It's awesome!

 

Really, I'm glad you made it down here. Almost no one ever comes down here. I'm like in a freaking dungeon down here. I get lonely. But not you. YOU made it all the way to the end of the page. For this I think I've a little crush on you. I don't know, is "love" to strong a word to use in this situation? Well, if it's not "love," then it's very strong "like." I'm totally in like with you for coming down here. You are awesome. Please love me back! I know, I know, I shouldn't be all needy, it's not attractive at all, but you don't know how it is to be stuck down here. Who scrolls all the way to the end of a page anymore these days? Anyway, thanks for shedding some light down here in the depths. I appreciate it. Shoot me an email and I'll send you a dollar, OK?

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