I guess I'm being smited for putting graffiti on the maxi pad box at Forest Hills Baptist Church when I was about 6 or 7. I just got paid back.
The maxi pad box, where I work, just attacked me. This receptacle is not secured as it should be and has a tendency to come out of its compartment when it's touched. It's a big, metal box. This isn't some Rubbermaid, plastic thing here.
A couple of ladies on this floor have been hit in the head with it (don't ask how that happened) and just now that dang thing landed on my big, nicely French pedicured toe. It's a wonder I didn't scream obscenities. It HURT. Now I'll have a nice black mark to start swimming pool season with.
What's worse is co-worker Elizabeth heard the whole commotion and thought that was the funniest thing. She was just laughing her head off. I told her she would next be smited for laughing at my infirmity. Here, this woman picks up stray dogs off Gallatin Rd. and finds homes for them and yet, doesn't have the mercy of a bottlecap at the fact that the maxi pad box caused me injury. What is this world coming to?
Co-worker George comes out of his office and offers me much mercy and said he hates it when people get hurt and there's always somebody around that will laugh like they're watching a Monty Python movie. I hate that too...what's up with that? He said one time he was trying to show his mother in law how to swing a golf club and she got him in the head, busting his noggin open and there's he's bleeding and she's just laughing like crazy.
I want my workman's comp!
Take a whiff of Sista Smiff and you'll come back for more, that's fo sho!
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
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2 comments:
Attack of the Killer Maxi Pads.
At least no one came into the bathroom and found you unconscious on the floor surrounded by maxi pads. That does suck. You might have to go to dark nail polish for your summer pedicure.
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