Disclaimer Re: Work-Related Posts: Seriously, if we work together and we’re not friends on Facebook, Twitter, or in real life, then you have no business being here. I don’t know how you found this but I’d rather you leave. I won’t make apologies for anything I write anonymously or under an assumed name (because yeah, “erineph” is on my birth certificate), so your choice to remain and possibly be offended is on you. If you choose to read on, I am compelled to remind you that I don’t name my employer or my co-workers (unless they’ve provided permission), nor am I telling any trade secrets, business strategies, et al. So nyeh.
Now that the disclaimer is over with, let me tell you about Grandma Airplane.
Grandma Airplane is a woman in my office so named because she is a grandmother and she talks about airplanes, like, all the time (we do not work in an airport). She’s a nice person on her own and, I think, a little bit lonely, so at first I was inclined to be extra nice and considerate towards her. Even when she made the same mistakes over and over again, claiming to have never learned the solution to them before (“uh, I just told you this last week”).
While I don’t think she’s capable of being malicious, I do think she’s willfully ignorant and somehow enjoys subverting processes for the sake of chaos. Or maybe she’s not; maybe she is literally incapable of holding useful information in her brain for more than 48 hours at a time. I honestly have no idea anymore, but I do get the feeling that when I open my mouth to speak to her, a wind-up tune of circus music starts playing in her head.
Like this: (hey WordPress, how about you bother posting that Simpsons video?)
It’s either that or she’s totally fucking insane. I actually lean towards this theory more than any other. Judging by the stuff she says and the bizarre decisions she makes when foolishly left on her own for a few minutes, there has to be some tendency towards absolute lunacy in her.
Today, she made her usual gestures towards Crazyland and said the single dumbest thing anyone can mutter in a meeting ever, especially because it so rarely ever needs to be said or is at all useful:
“Ahhh, supply and demand.”
I think I first learned about the concept of supply and demand by watching Sesame Street episodes filmed during the 1970s recession; by the time Junior Achievement rolled around in fifth grade, it was old news. And this adult person is saying it in corporate meetings like she knows what the hell she’s saying over the drone of that lone fly buzzing around and pinging off the sides of her skull. I mean, no shit, genius, you mean people buy stuff? And we make it? For reals?
Thankfully, Brennan’s wife made dark chocolate turtles today. I amazed myself by only eating two of them (and not stealing from anyone else by kicking them in the genitals and shouting “run away, run away!”).
Thus, we have a conversation from 2/3’s of the Little Corner of Moron:
Me: These turtles are really good, but they’d be even better with salted caramel.
Brennan: Yeah, they would.
Me: Of course, salted caramel turtles would mean I’d never get off my couch. I’d just sit there getting fatter and wondering why Val Kilmer from the TV doesn’t love me.
Brennan: Actually, that’s what I imagine happened to Val Kilmer.
Me: I think he had a bad day and came home with a bag full of Brach’s caramels and just sat there with a salt shaker, and feel asleep in the sun and then everything melted.
Brennan: I think he mainlined the caramel and snorted the salt….also I see this happening in an Adirondack chair.
Me: He would have to be wearing a bathrobe.
<general tittering like idiots>
Me: I think we should write Val Kilmer a letter. Dear Mr. Kilmer, this is how we imagine things went down. We are willing to concede that you may have been sitting in a chaise lounge at the time…
Brennan: Or a porch swing…
Me: Or a porch swing, but other than that we believe these details to be fairly accurate. Are we correct in this assumption?
Brennan: Signed, Two Idiots.