Monday, 10 June 2013

How I Amuse Myself At Work.

This week I'm sporting the Wookie Mating Call Chest Infection.

And whenever I'm a bit under the weather, I often get to work early and casually pace my way through the To Do List so that I have a longer but more leisurely day.

I can't even be a hypochondriac about it because there's antibiotics that cure just about everything these days. Not that I trust my doctor anyway. Her office plants are dead and she is the only person I know who doesn't have a "Sure Cure" for the common cold.

But hey, I'm not a fan of pharmacists anyway because I'm one of those little smart asses that goes in and says:

"May I please have a 24pack of acetylsalicylic acid?"

"... Aspirin?"

"Oh that's it, gosh I always forget that name."

Or I just scratch off the A and S and sell 'pirin' pills at Noizy for $25 a pop. (Thank you Birdcage for anybody that's seen it.) But it does make for a boring day if lunch is quiet. So instead of lounging around at a shrub-like level of lazy where instead of doing it myself, I'm more likely to stick my head out the car window and let the wind blow my nose, I thought I'd seek some entertainment.

Now, the Boss was in a particularly cunty mood yesterday. His wife's just had a baby and I don't think he's been sleeping much which to me, just screeeaaams out for me to be a raging little shit.

Chefs like pranks you see. It helps us get rid of the sweaty aftertaste that lingers from a stressful service. Plus there's nothing quite as pleasurable as seeing a bimbo maitre d' topple over because you've Vaselined her stilettos.

But I thought I'd share with you, my delightful giggle-inducing tricks that occupied my day.

WARNING: Unless you are at the standard of "married" relationship with your boss, I wouldn't recommend these. But my boss and I have been working together in a small environment for 60-70 hours of the week for the past year and safe to say, we know how to push each other enough to release the expletives but not enough to jump off the West Gate. But that is what will generally happen when you see your colleagues 60% more than any loved one.

I made a brilliant start to the day by expediting cold revenge on the complaints that had been thrown my way about my 'inability to efficiently label' my shit.

I Post-It Noted the bar.

Now, I don't mean I stuck a few around the place, I mean I saturated the fucker - including the fridge.

Every wine bottle, beer, coffee cup, the stapler, you name it, there was a note on it telling my dear boss exactly what it was and what it was used for. Took him half an hour to locate and destroy while I giggled my ass off from the back.

But to be slightly more subtle - I pulled a great little number on his laptop. Here's one for all you 9-5 office lads too.

I put a piece of sticky tape under the optical lens of the mouse. Just enough to cover the sensor. Or if you're really sneaky (like me), you do it when you duck into the bar to fill up your tea pot, after your boss has already been using it for an hour.

It was undeniably satisfying watching him slowly morph into a Gremlinesque physique and bitterly call everything in sight a cunt.

But finally, as my "Shit I hope I don't get fired for this" emotion peaked, I outdid myself.

I moved his car.

Not much - just one car spot over. Enough to make him think he was losing his shit when he went out to the bank. But of course, moving it back upon his return.

I know today will be payback day because I left before him and he was far too cheery saying: "Bye Cheffo, you have yourself a lovely night."

Oh well. You know those three guys in the Pepai ads?

Yeah, that was me.

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