Imaginary Anecdote from Work

As the only person working at two different locations, I am in the unique position to keep my fellow employees informed about their coworkers whom they no longer get to see on a daily basis.  Of course, depending on me for gossip and rumors is like depending on the Cubs for World Series victories.  I am no longer eligible to win the award for the Least Informed Person in the Universe.  A few years ago the name of the trophy was changed to the Shane Samples Is Completely Oblivious Award in honor of my winning it every year of my adult life.  Now I just present the trophy at the awards ceremony, but don't ask me who's going to win this year.  I don't have a clue. In case you are wondering, Gully McGulibleson, unlike International Postal Worker of the Year, this award is not at all fictitious.

As soon as I got to the annex Wednesday night, a coworker asked me about the fight at the plant.  When he saw the blank look on my face, he remembered that I had not been there yet.  It turns out that there had been a skirmish at work that night.  There had been a meeting at the annex about it, but no names were mentioned.  One of my favorite things about my dual location work schedule is that I have not had to attend any meeting since before Labor Day.  Knowing that someone else might ask me about the fight, I began to craft a story about what might have happened.

You would appreciate this story more if you knew the subjects, so I will describe them for you as best I can.  Since I don't want to be accused of libel, I will change the names of the combatants.  In one corner is Wandog.  She is one of the most sour people I have ever met.  She doesn't actually have any real authority, but her job requires her to sometimes make announcements over the intercom which gives her an over inflated opinion of her importance.  In the other corner is Michael.  He is one of those people who thinks he is funnier than he actually is.  Because you only hear his funny stories, you also think he is funnier than he actually is.  He loves to play practical jokes on people especially if he gets a chance to lie in the process.  So imagine a fight between a man in his early farties against a woman in her mid fifties.  I didn't write the entire scene, just the ending.

When everyone finally stopped laughing long enough to pull Wandog off of Michael, he was lying in a puddle of his own blood and urine, crying and begging for mercy.

The only problem with this story was the lack of motive.  I was worried that this tale might not be believable, so I came up with an alternative.  Michael, a rabid Dallas Cowboy fan, was arguing with Tina, a die hard Pittsburgh Steeler fan, about which team had tougher fans.  One thing lead to another and then...

When everyone finally stopped laughing long enough to pull Tina off of Michael, he was lying in a puddle of his own blood and urine, crying and begging for mercy.  Proving once and for all, that all Cowboy fans are sissies.

I tried to come up with other scenarios, but I had nothing else as good as those.  Unfortunately no one asked me about the fight, so I did all that creative thinking for nothing, other than, my own entertainment.  So it turned out to be a very productive night of work.  Just in case you were wondering, I found out this morning that the fight was between opposing candidates for the upcoming union elections.

ps. On a completely unrelated note, the next time you see me thirty feet up in a tree, remind me that I have a camera in my pocket.