An Observation About My Job and Other Jobs

I work with two other gentlemen. One is the boss and the other, well, he's also my boss. I'm certainly the grunt of the operation. The "hired hand." As a matter of fact, I learned recently that I'm below the boss's pit bull in rank, but just above the cat that lives in the barn.

Which got me to wonder, since I most likely started at the bottom, does that mean I got a promotion? Success!! Take that Boo! (barncat's name)

But, still I pet you...

Anyway, the thing I like, considering the type of work and the type of people, is that there's no damn way I'm going to get tangled up in any awkard situations with a coworker over buying summer sausage or popcorn tins to support their kid's fucking debate club fundraiser.

Which I think is Fucking Awesome.


Rob, you know what I'm talking about.

And christ, the worst thing, the worst fucking thing is when they just leave the order form laying there on the breakroom's snack-table, and they'll have put some homemade brownies or something beside it to lure and guilt you into action. There will probably be a note too, about Madison's debate topic this year or Chad's score for his soccer team last weekend, and by that point, fuck, you'd have to walk out of that breakroom with your head down if you didn't buy anything.



Or, I suppose, greedily and quickly with brownies in pockets.