Drunks, Baby Jessica–Holler at Me Girl, and Inventions

We haven’t had much luck with our temp service.  Last time they sent us a very slow typist with bad breath.  She was a bitch as well.  Not soon after that, we were sent an alcoholic John Denver look alike named John.  I didn’t notice it the first day he worked, but the second day he reeked like the reekiest shitter in the smelliest bar.  Not too unlike R Bar.  I thought I was making it up so I walked out of the office and then back in again a few times and each time I was hit with a wall of funk.  And he moaned and coughed and burped throughout the day.  I counted as he got up to get about 7 glasses of water.  He only peed once.  What can I say, it’s a small office after all.  Plus I had no real amusement since my usual office-mate Esteban was gone to New York to have strange, older adult debaucheries.

 

I contemplated telling but I felt like a snitch.  And in our line of work, snitches is bitches.  For real.  But I hit some limit (I think it may have been the moaning)  and told the attorney “the temp is drunk.”  He said he thought he’d smelled it the other day but wasn’t sure.  Then he told the office manager who told me she thought she’d smelled him last month when he’d worked at the office.  AND I caught him on MySpace.  I think he may have been trolling for lovely young men.  I sound so hateful and I’m really not.  It was actually really terrible.  The kind of terrible that you kind of have to laugh at.

 

The other day Grammy’s attorney told her something like, “did you know that the way cat’s can tell if they’ll fit someplace is with their whiskers?”,  and then proceeded to tell her about the science of whiskers in relation to fatness.  “It’s too bad Baby Jessica didn’t have whiskers, huh?”  That totally didn’t get the response Grammy was hoping for.  Then we got to thinking about this Baby Jessica girl.  What the hell ever happened to her?  She’s like 20-something now.  I wonder if you ever shed that crummy image as that poor dumb baby who fell down a well and got stuck.  Everytime I close my eyes and think of Baby J, I see that dirty little baby with a bandaged forehead.  I think she had casts as well. 

 

I did a little poking around on the internet and found a virtual online SHRINE to Baby Jessica, the sweet little baby who united a town, and warmed the hearts of the nation.  And you know it had to have been made years after this thing happened since the internet wasn’t invented until Baby J was at least in Jr. high.  I wonder if she is on MySpace.  I want her to be my friend.  I want to ask her about her life, and she’d better be doing something fabulous after all the trouble the townspeople went through.

 

Speaking of inventions, I was having drinks with my cougar-friend and she turned to me out of nowhere and said, “I have an excellent idea for an invention!”  Inventions are great, don’t get me wrong, but for some reason, I always find myself on the verge of peeing in my pants when people start to describe them.  Because usually, they get super excited and you want to be nice about it, but the inventions are crazy.  I mean, sometimes a genius invention gets invented–like the iron lung or pre-cooked pound bags of bacon—but usually inventors are crazy people who invent crap you don’t really need.  Like any annoying exercise equipment or things like Zima or Beanie Babies.  So all of this is running through my head and she says, “you know when you go to the doctor and they tell you to get undressed,” this was already hilarious, “and they do not have hangars for you?  Well, what if you could sort of—I don’t even know how you could do this, but, what if you could carry your own special hanger with a pouch for your panties?”  I honestly don’t really see this as a problem that needs to be solved.  “I just put my clothes on the chair with the rest of my stuff.”  “WHAT?!  Do you know what kinds of FILTH and GERMS are on those chairs?!”  So this conversation went on and on and she determined that there is a real need for this type of thing and she could make a million dollars with this grand idea and I will be sorry when she does and she can finally retire and not worry about having to cougarize any young prospects.  That might be nice for a change.    

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