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Thread: Primal With A Side Of FABULOUS page 194

  1. #1931
    naiadknight's Avatar
    naiadknight is online now Senior Member
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    *Waggles swine flu covered shopping basket in GP's general direction*
    Your mother was a gerbil and your father smelt of skunkberries!
    "No fate but what we make"- Sarah Connor, Terminator 2
    Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
    My Primal Battle Tome

  2. #1932
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    Quote Originally Posted by drssgchic View Post
    There is something wrong with my life that I stalk you two all day at work to help keep me sane. But I can't figure out what it is.

    Carry on!
    We live to entertain. Valhalla knows how much I needed some good Internet surfing when I worked with Mr. Magazine Time, but as such a large portion of his day was spent creeping around cubicles and springing into them to catch people doing exactly that, I never felt safe enough to take a minute for myself and my sanity.

    Oh, Mr. Magazine Time. Between you and Toodles the Lab Tech, I was doomed.

  3. #1933
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    I would just like to say that when I google "flap meat" all I get are recipes
    I have no idea what you people are talking about

    Of course, after "tub girl" maybe I don't want to know............

    p.s. Please tell us a story about Toodles the Lab Tech!
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  4. #1934
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    I digress a bit but I have a masonry contractor working for me that Panda's aunt would hate - "Scorpio Masonry."
    There are two wolves fighting within a man's heart, one is Love, the other is Hate. The one that wins is the one you feed.

    My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we'll change the world. - Jack Layton

    The Primal Adventures of Griffin - Huzzah!

  5. #1935
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    Quote Originally Posted by ottercat View Post
    p.s. Please tell us a story about Toodles the Lab Tech!
    Oh, that will take many installments! I'll post one for today before I leave for the vet and try to get another up tomorrow.

  6. #1936
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    PART ONE:

    The first week, she baffled me.
    The second week, she annoyed me.
    The third week, she angered me.
    The fourth week, she infuriated me.
    The fifth week, she was fired.

    THE FIRST WEEK:
    In his efforts to keep his desk planner free of intrusion, one year Mr. Magazine Time did not place a job ad for a lab tech to get us through the busy season. Gay Panda grew nervous as time wound down to the crunch, as the lab required two people to operate. I was very efficient, but due to an unsuspected iodine deficiency, I was not magical. A second lab tech was critical.

    The five minutes it would have taken to resurrect the copy of the ad from his computer and place it online; the minute it would have taken to shuffle off the applications onto another employee for review; and the hour it would have eaten to interview the best two prospects added up to far too much time from his day. We got closer and closer to Crunch Time and still he did not place an ad. Sometimes he just went home early to rest up for the upcoming busy season, and Gay Panda did not know what he was resting up for since he didn’t do anything else during the busy season than he did during the slow. In fact, he often did less.

    This was how Toodles joined the company. She was the wife of the company’s tech supplier, and overhearing* the tech guy mention that his wife was having no luck finding work, Mr. Magazine Time suggested the lab. And so she was hired for the position without so much as an application or an interview, and problem solved! Mr. Magazine Time returned to his magazines in triumph.

    Hearing a manic laugh outside my cubicle one shift, I was introduced to the new lab tech the day before she was to begin. The woman was in her fifties, very wide and extremely pale, and the only color upon her person was from her dyed red hair. It was fried from long chemical abuse, knotted and stiff and shaggy, but she ran her hand through it lovingly as if they were the locks of a princess who moisturized on a daily basis. Her eyes had a dizzy look, like she had disembarked from a roller coaster, and she greeted me too loudly among the sea of cubicles and quiet workers. I smiled politely, my radar for strange individuals already in the red zone and ringing PING PING PING in my mind, and I hoped that she was just exuberant and excited and we would get along fine.

    On her first day of work, she was late. I waited in the office with annoyance, since Mr. Magazine Time had informed me that she and I would be sharing my work truck Pudding. At last she showed and we loaded into Pudding, and as I pulled away from the office to drive to the lab, the woman sighed in rapture and said, “I love how the air here sparkles! Can’t you just see it?”

    Had you been reading Gay Panda’s mind right then, you would have heard a hearty oh, f*ck.

  7. #1937
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    PART TWO:

    “I’m so excited to have this job!” she squealed with a hair toss. “I just couldn’t stand my son asking me to make him snacks one more time! I can’t wait for his school to start up in ten days.”
    You took a hard job for three months to get away from your son for ten days? I thought. Expecting her to answer four or five, I asked, “How old is your son?”
    “Oh, he’s sixteen!”

    As I drove Pudding and picked through memories to determine my own state of self-sufficiency by my junior year of high school, the new lab tech unloaded about the neediness of her son. He wanted her to vacuum his room. He wanted a hot dog. He wanted a second hot dog. He wanted cookies. She laughed ruefully about how she had to keep getting up to do all of these things for him, how he could not manage to do laundry or clean his room and how sick she was of his whining and picking up his room for him, and finally I pulled Pudding into the driveway at the lab and exited in relief as she cackled maniacally in the passenger seat about how she was free of him for ten whole days.

    For the next hour, she was trained on proper lab procedure by another boss, and then interrupted her to cry, “But that’s completely inefficient! I’m going to rewrite all of your procedures and do it better!”
    I stared at her.
    My boss stared at her.
    She reached for a pen to take notes on improvements.

    My boss finally got her wind back and said that we would not be changing up procedures that had suited the lab well enough for many years, and the disappointed new lab tech persisted throughout that day in trying to convince the boss otherwise. I worked around them during the training, too busy to pay much attention, but that odd laugh was ever present no matter where I was in the lab or outside doing testing.

    When we returned to the main office in Pudding at the end of the day, the new lab tech marched into the office of the CEO and cried, “I want to rewrite the lab procedures to make them more efficient!” Gay Panda hurried on by to the Endless Sea of Cubicles, and let the CEO do what she would. As I entered data into the computer, in time I heard that maniacal laugh among the cubicles as the lab tech went visiting to introduce herself to furiously working employees. Then it was time for her to go, and she stopped by my cubicle to say, “See you tomorrow, Gay Panda! TOODLES!”

    And out she went with a hair shake. The next morning she was there (more or less) on time, and as we loaded into Pudding, she sighed in rapture and said, “I love how the air here sparkles! Can’t you just see it?”

    It was a perfect echo of the day before, every inflection and emphasis, and Gay Panda began to get very, very worried.

  8. #1938
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    wow! she needs some Sock Sorters!
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  9. #1939
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    Sorry to hijack, but I must know: Ottercat, what are sock sorters? (I am a rabid sock knitter. Is this a new toy I might want?)

  10. #1940
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    Quote Originally Posted by ottercat View Post
    wow! she needs some Sock Sorters!
    Ironically, I worked with her years AFTER writing Mother's Little Helpers. Toodles was just an older and far battier version of Nicole.

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