T h e A d v e n t u r e s o f C h i c a g o J o

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I Swear, If You Give Me Ebola...

2003-12-16† Ė† 2:41 p.m.
Guess what mamaís haviní for lunch today?!


Thereís very little I like more than guacamole (phone calls from my brother, gnocchi, vitamin E moisturizer from The Body Shop, kisses on the clavicle), so Iím hoping this will clear up any headache that I feel coming on. The loud chips arenít likely to help any, but if it annoys the guy one section over from me, itíll make it worth it.

Thereís a certain bit of office etiquette that you follow. Donít eat loud foods or smack your gum. Donít talk on the phone really loudly. Donít bring anything smelly (e.g., buttered popcorn). Air yourself out before returning to the building after smoking. Donít sniff in your snot, crack your knuckles, or do any of your other annoying habits that other people would be forced to witness.

Whereas following these suggestions will go a long way in keeping the peace, coming into the office while sick is likely to start a mutiny.

C-Dogg (formerly called CW2, the coworker I spent my days chatting with, who is much deserving of a better pseudonym than the shortened version of Coworker #2) sits next to who we call Talkie McTalkerson. We donít care to find out his real name, as this one fits him nicely. He spends the day on the phone -- fine, thatís his job -- but the man has no sense of volume control WHATSOEVER.

Talkie comes in today, and we roll our eyes in anticipation of his drawn out important person phone calls and the talk of his 45-pound 10-month-old kidís bowel movements or whatever retarded things parents with no life other than what their snotty and drippy little kids do talk about. Then he lets out a chesty hack, loosening some phlegm that he immediately sneezes out.

C-Dogg and I mouth, ďOh shit, that fucker had better not get us sick...Ē before we start fishing around our desks for some face masks a la Michael Jackson and some Lysol to decontaminate our breathing area.

If youíre sick, donít come to work.

Donít be a martyr, dying to continue to pump out the equivalent of TPS reports. No oneís gonna appreciate your work if you give them the Dengue Fever while trying to get work done.

So after a morning of his germy ejections and our shallow breathing, what does the dork-wad bring for lunch?

Fried freaking chicken.


Holiday Help from ChicagoJo

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$10 off: TDWELCME2224
10% off $100+ for using Amex: TC3AMEXSAVES

I got myself $100 in giftcards shipped for $71.95. †

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