I wonder about a lot of things.
I wonder why people feel the need to write cryptic status updates on Twitter and Facebook, then say “It’s personal” when you ask them about it. I also wonder why Tori Spelling is relevant. One time I was so busy wondering that I forgot to go to work for an entire week.
Unfortunately, my Boss was not a wonderer, which is why I no longer work for that company.
One day, back when I was still employed, I was in a meeting. Because Engineering meetings are boring, I started wondering what would happen if I were to suddenly lean over the table and start making out with Don.
It’s not that I was attracted to Don–He was two years away from retirement and had a forehead that just wouldn’t quit. I just wanted to know what would happen if I did. Would he be all into it? Would my co-workers be shocked? Or even worse, turned on? Would they get all awkward and make an excuse to leave the room? Or would all hell break lose and suddenly the conference room would turn into one giant anal-retentive orgy?
An inquiring mind wanted to know.
To break up the monotony at work, my BFFOOTPITO (best friend forever out of the people in the office) taught me a game called “Would You Rather.”
C- Would you rather be mauled by a bear or attacked by a shark?
Me- Neither. Final answer.
C- You have to pick one.
Me- Fine. Has the bear been declawed?
C- Why would a bear be declawed?
B- Is it a Basking shark?
C- Does it matter?
B- Well, duh. Basking Sharks don’t use their teeth.
C- *sighs* Why don’t you start. Give me two things and I’ll tell you which one I’d rather do.
B- Okay. Would you rather get rich or die tryin’?
C- It has to be two things that I wouldn’t want to do.
B- You didn’t say that.
C- I thought it was implied.
B- Fine. Shit or get off the pot?
C- You don’t get it, do you?
B- Move it or lose it?
C- Forget it.
B- Well, that answers my next question. I was going to ask if you’d rather Set It or Forget It.
It took a while, but eventually I got the hang of it.
We played this game every day. Because we didn’t want to be accused of wasting Company time, we made sure to keep our questions strictly work-related.
“Would you rather stay at our current job for another five years or be in a fire where ninety percent of our body is covered in burns?”
When the answers became too easy (Burn Baby, Burn!), we decided to up the ante.
“Would you rather sleep with Hussein in Accounting, or Phil in Document Controls?”
To give you an idea of what we were dealing with it took three days– even cutting into our lunch hour (which we made up for by leaving early)–for us to come to a verdict.
I felt it was only fair that we share our decision with the finalists. I asked Hussein and Phil to meet us in the boardroom.
Me- First, we want you to know that this wasn’t easy. You’re both great guys and I’m sure both of you would make some desperate woman very happy.
Phil- What’s this about?
Me- Patience, old man. You’re not dead yet. *Turning to Hussein* Now Hussein, you have a really great personality, but we find you too sweaty for our taste. Phil, your sensible footwear and cane really draws attention to your oldness.
During the intermission, C sang a song off her Richard Marx-inspired album “Right Here Collating For You.” I talked about the importance of not grossing your co-workers out by flossing at your desk.
Finally it came time to announce the winner. You could cut the tension with a knife. Had it not been for Hussein’s sweating, you would have been able to hear a paper-clip drop.
To make the experience seem more legit I decided to use the “Double Deek-Out,” a trick I picked up from watching “So You Think You Can Dance.”
You know how when the two contestants are up for elimination and that annoying English chick will turn to one guy and make it seem like he’s the winner? Then, at the last minute she will spew out a bunch of confusing double negatives, causing the loser to go home and slash his wrists and the viewers to wonder what the hell just happened.
I find this method also works in my personal life.
For example, let’s say I’m at the store trying to decide which chocolate bar I want to buy. To make the task seem more exciting, I will act like I’m going to pick the Oh Henry, then at the last minute I will point to the Eatmore and say “Eatmore, you may not not stay. Oh Henry, I’m sorry to say “No Way!””
Given my unhealthy attachment to inanimate objects, I usually end up buying both. Also, a pack of Smarties.
Fortunately, my empathetic nature doesn’t extend to human beings.
I made it look like we were going to choose Hussein. Then I turned around and awarded Phil the title of “Guy We Would Sleep with If We Had To Pick between Him And Hussein.”
I awarded him with a stapler from the filing cabinet. C sang a song from her Meatloaf-inspired album, “Subordinate Out Of Hell.”
I don’t think Hussein was too happy with the results. But to be fair, he was married so it wasn’t like he had to worry about what was on the outside.
The important thing was that we gave an ornery old man something to live for.
There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t wonder about Phil.
Not because I care–I mean, obviously–but because like I said…I’m a wonderer.