Greta and the Staredown

I take late lunchbreaks. Everyone knows that. Even Greta, which is probably why today she tried to take advantage of me.

As I'm walking back to my desk today, I see Greta from afar, shuffling about near my desk. As I get even closer, I see that she is dusting my desk. I approach my desk and Greta turns to face me.

She looks at me.

I look at her.

She looks at her garbage can and back at me (which I did not take offensively at that point in time but now, looking back on it, could be kind of insulting).

"Sorry, so sorry," says Greta. She smiles, nods her head ever so slightly, grabs hold of her can, and drives it away.

"That's right, Greta," I think to myself, "Walk away. Walk away and never come back... unless you come before 8am or after 5pm."

I smile satisfactorily, pull my chair out, sit down at my desk, and stare right at today's afternoon snack: a green apple. Mind you, an exposed green apple.

Did you dust it today, Greta? Did you!?! Damn you, Greta. Damn you.

Finally! A practical and OCD-friendly bathroom accessory!

Are you obsessed with Purell? Hate dealing with your personal hygiene day in and day out? Do you wish that you had a bidet? Ever have that not-so-fresh feeling? Well Comfort Wipe has come along to assuage* your worries. Finally, a solution!

If you'd prefer a stick up your ass to your own hand, this product is for you.

Do you think that, in the "olden days" people used a stick with leaves wrapped around it? NO. They probably just used a leaf because no one had thought of using a stick! The Comfort Wipe inventor is going to totally strike it rich. Lucky bastard. Wish I'd thought of it myself. I can't even comprehend the mind-boggling-ness! To put it simply: it took thousands of years for someone to finally invent a tool that makes ass-wiping easier, cleaner, and more-efficient. This is one for the books, kids! A HISTORICAL BREAKTHROUGH!

It's official. My mind is blown.

I am so excited I could pee. Actually, I have to pee. Wish I had my very own Comfort Wipe at the office, stowed away in my desk drawer, alongside my paperclips. If I had my very own Ass-Wipe (for short), I'd take it right out of my drawer, carry it the 200 feet to the bathroom, whilst beaming with pride. "That's right, assholes," I'd think to myself. "I have a 'Comfort Wipe' and you don't!" Then I would cackle to myself, walk past my coworkers, down the hall, and all the way to the last stall. "Chumps!"



[*Assuage: one of my high school vocabulary words. My friends and I used a very special mnemonic to remember its meaning. "Assuage. Kind of sounds like 'sewage'. Sewage is soothing. Assuage." I kid you not. So it was only fitting for this word to be used in such a circumstance.]