awkwardness, naughtiness and- sad to say it- balls

my life as it stands right now is made up of one awkward vignette after another.
i don't know why.
i try so hard to be normal. i really do.

i was answering phones yesterday while dingdong was at lunch.
me: hello, insertrandomnameheresomybosswon'tfindmyblogandfireme chocolates.
lady: ... oh... wait, what did i call?
me: irnhsmbwfmbafm chocolates.
lady: ... that's not what i was calling.
me: what were you looking for?
lady: the gas company.
me: ya, that happens a lot.
lady: you sound like a porno service.
me: ... nope, this is irnhsmbwfmbafm chocolates.
lady: are you a naughty girl?
me: ... ... no.
lady: you are, you're a dirty girl.
me: ... ... ... good luck finding the gas company.
click.

and this is what i mean by awkward. well, not specifically. very few of my awkward situations turn into sad, lesbian phone calls. but in general, weirdness has been ensuing while i'm just trying to get my work done*.

a few days ago i was trying to finish up the "droppings" labels we've all come to know and love. i was already concerned because all my little icons kept turning out unintentionally effeminate.


as i stared at the candy for the "dracula droppings" uggh i sighed and headed back to the factory to have a conversation i did not want to have.

me: ahem... uh... N?
n: ya?
me: i was just working on the dracula droppings and i was wondering if we maybe wanted to call the candy something different.
n: why, what's it called?
me: .... red hot balls.
laughter from all corners of the factory.
me: is there maybe something else we could call it?
n: what's it called in the candy manufacturer's catalogue?
me: ...sigh... lava balls... which is more of a backwards step, really.
n: good point.
s: are they jawbreakers?
n: no, they're kind of chewy-
me: -i don't think the problem is a lack of adjectives.
l: as long as you don't put an "apostrophe s" after the dracula-
me: -cinnamon drops. i'm calling them cinnamon drops.
sit down at desk, finish the label, read the next item on the list.
me: ... sigh... go to the back of the factory uh... N?
n: ya?
me: do we maybe want to call the candy for the elf droppings something else?
n: why? what's it called?
me: .... "tart & tiny".
laughter from all corners of the factory.

i just want to sit at my little desk, and do my little job*, and not discuss descriptors for male anatomy, or thoughtfully consider how much i'm not "naughty", or have extremely lame conference calls with psychotic gourmet foodery owners, or entertain a bored 6 year old, or become a verbal pinata.
i just want to get my work done*.

p.s. i might be in a bad mood.

i should think about that.


*please read: "play text twist"

Comments

Leah said…
I like you. I'd blog about the cray-z-ness that really goes on at my job, but I'd get busted for confidentiality issues - especially since some of the members of the IT department read my blog.
matt said…
i had a friend in 3rd grade who went on a trip to alaska and brought me back some moose droppings. real ones. they looked like over-sized whopper malt balls. my mom threw them away.
Anonymous said…
That was truly hilarious. Maybe you should confide this to dingdong and she could Freudian psychoanalyze you to determine if there's anything wrong. Just a thought.
Em said…
It reminds me of the cigarette dispenser in "Hairspray"