Today at work they are working on the big space next to our department. Actually, they’ve been doing this for over a month, hammering, pounding, sawing, bumping, grinding, pole-dancing and what have you. And you KNOW how much I hate drilling. It makes me insane. Voices, the voices! Kill the dentist! KILL the dentist!…Um,…anyway….we’ve got loads of construction workers about six feet away from my desk. And the radio. Do you realize what kind of things construction workers like to listen to on the radio? Let’s just say this… much to my chagrin, Esteban enjoys listening to Jim Rome. And let’s also get this out of the way: I am astonished that Jim Rome has a JOB, much less a broadcasting license. The man talks like a frat boy given an AM radio talk show. And he revels in saying “AAAAAASSSSS” just like that. AAAAAAASSSSS. And now Esteban has begun imitating him because imitation is the sincerest form of dorkiness. So not only do I have to put up with Esteban saying AAAAAASSSSSS like Jim Rome, or Romey as the Rome-followers call him… like he was a drinking buddy or something…. but I also have to deal with Esteban trying to listen to the Rome Show on the rare occaisions when we are both home during the week. I say ‘trying’ because I have laid the smack down on Jim Rome. There is a moratorium on slack-jawed, egotistical bastards at the Weetabix household. One per home, please. No, I didn’t mean that. Esteban does not have a slack jaw. He had braces for six months.
Anyway, the construction workers LIKE Jim Rome. And we get to listen to him at work at MIND-ALTERING VOLUMES. Because they have to be able to hear every gutteral tone of ‘AAAAASSSSSS’ over the sounds of drilling, hammering, and sawing.
Grrrrr.
But that’s not the really bothersome thing today. Today, it is roughly 85 degrees and we had some mofo thunderstorms and rain last night. When you live near water, that translates to some heavy humidity. And due to the fact that the construction workers are traipsing in and out of the area, the pathetic climate control in our area cannot keep up with the heat.
Thus, I am currently working in the Amazon jungle of Tech Support. And it smells like a strange combination of the banana that my coworker is eating, and armpit.
That and the construction workers have been asked to turn off Jim Rome and they are now whistling “The Battle of New Orleans”, which, in case you are not total white trash and were not subjected to honky tonk music in your youth, goes something like this “Well In 1814 we took a little trip along with Colonel Jackson down the mighty Mississip. We took a little bacon and we took a little beans And we caught the bloody British in the town of New Orleans. Yeah, they ran through the briars and they ran through the brambles And they ran through the bushes where a rabbit couldn’t go. They ran so fast that the hounds couldn’t catch ’em on down the Mississippi to the Gulf of Mexico.”
I am not making this up.
Someone shoot me in the head with a squirrel gun, please.
Editing this to add that tomorrow’s my birthday and Unclebob has not yet “favorited” me yet. Nor sent me an email.
Do you think he’s saving it for tomorrow for a surprise?
It could happen.
