So I started working part time at a technical school through a temp agency.  I was told I’d be “answering phones and doing a little filing”.  The cubby hole I report to each morning doesn’t even have a phone and by a little filing, what they meant was “here’s the key to the Morgue.” The morgue is a room where files go to die, and evidently – where they send the new temps hoping they will succumb to the darkness and depression of so much unorganized paperwork and quietly kick the bucket where no one will find their bodies – ever again.

This morning I was super excited to rummage through the supply cabinet for odds and ends and scored a much needed bottle of white out.  How does one get so excited about liquid paper? Let me tell you, as I’ve been making sooooo many corrections to my own work as I learn to read the financial aid paperwork and Pell grant papers and loan applications – white out is my best friend. So I hurried back to my desk at 9:30 and opened my new bottle of white out and fixed a mistake I’d tried to scribble out.

People looked at me strangely for the rest of the day, and I chalked it up to being new.

Then as I climbed in my jeep to go home, I glanced in the mirror and saw – a giant splotch of white out across the bottom of my nose and my upper lip.

Like I’d been snorting liquid paper, or I’d tried to erase my mouth – AND NO ONE SAID A WORD FOR THREE HOURS!

Welcome to adventures in temping. I tried to scrub it off, but surprisingly, once that shit dries – it really sticks.

I was sitting at the City Sports Bar downtown with Sondra and while we were chatting and watching the big screens of Soccer and Basketball – I noticed to my utter amazement, that there on top of the biggest TV ever… was an X-Box!

I glanced around and all the big screens had an X-Box! It was like the heavens opened and Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus exploded in surround sound down a shaft of brilliant sunlight to the sofa where I was sitting.  I immediately hunted down the manager and asked if they do Halo tournaments and he said they used to and he would be happy to put me on the mailing list. Woooo-hoooo!

So I went back to the couch and flopped down next to Sondra and she said, “You’re like, every man’s wet dream.”

“Why, because I say… ‘Is it okay with you if we don’t waste our time chattering? Can we just fuck and play Video Games? It that okay with you?’”