I Fall Down Stairs

So I’m trying to work. You know. I get paid for doing stuff, so I try to do stuff that I’m paid for.
 
And our e-litigation department is going around introducing a new member of their team. It is a guy who is very tall, dark hair, smoky eyes, and then drenched in stereotypical geek/computer nerd on top of that.  I hesitate to use those terms because I know these things mean different things to different people and some of it may be offensive, and well, I just don’t have a better way to wax descriptive right now. 
 
I do the thing, the hello, handshake, forget his name instantly because I have only ever remembered a name the first time someone told (or tells) me what it is, maybe 3 times in my life. I sit down and shake off the “forced to talk to strangers” thing.
 
From behind me, I hear the introductions happening with my 72-year-old co-worker.  Next thing I hear, she says to him without even trying to remember that she’s not at a speakeasy:  “Oh hello, you ARE A CUTIE PIE.”
 
I spit out my coffee.
 
When the interlopers leave, I turn to her and say “You are kinda my office hero right now. I hope HR puts that on the form when they write you up tomorrow.”
 

Moon blush.

Moon blush.

NO, REALLY. HOW IS YOUR MONDAY GOING?

That is my desk. That is the hole in the ceiling that wasn’t there Friday. Only my desk and the one next to mine have the ET tenting.

Too much to ask for a little heads up I guess.

Unbelievable. I feel better than beer used to make me feel.

I want to print, frame, and hang this somewhere, with the title “Ayye,” just so someone has a hilarious (to me) reason to want to punch me in the Fonzie t-shirt I’d be wearing while standing next to it. Forever.

I want to print, frame, and hang this somewhere, with the title “Ayye,” just so someone has a hilarious (to me) reason to want to punch me in the Fonzie t-shirt I’d be wearing while standing next to it. Forever.