I’m part time in an office. I say “call me in my out-of-office time if there’s an emergency.”
Some people think: “We forgot to do something last week and we want it done today. It’s actually not that important.”
“But we’ve got your mobile number (though we won’t see the note beside the number saying you aren’t working today). We’re calling you anyways.”
I say “what’s going on?”
“Oh we’re fine, busy like normal.”
My face goes like this, -_-
“So can you talk? We have this and this problem .. ”
Someone told me,
“Hey! What the heck does the title of your last WFT post have to do with a DJ and a party?”
So I said,
“Whoa, are you blind? Here let me spell it out for you”
And I drew a little picture in the air above my head.
And the person was like,
“Wow, I get it now!”
But I doubted that, so I made a real picture instead:
The ‘royal couples’ stand on the balcony of the Oval Office:
Barack: (to Sarkozy) Hey Nick, come over here, I wanna show you some interesting photos from the Clinton years…
(they walk inside to the President’s desk)
Michelle Obama: (to Carla) You two are always so charming at those state dinners, I couldn’t wait to finally meet the both of you in private like this.
Carla nods and smiles, and begins to look through her purse for a cigarette.
Michelle: I’m always so envious of the fashion labels you wear!
Carla: (pauses, looks pale) Well, yeah.. thanks.
Michelle: (excitedly inspects at Carla’s dress) Isn’t that a Valentino! Who does your wardrobe??
Carla: (nervously) Well… (she finds a cigarette and puts it to her lips)
Michelle: Come on! (She winks at Carla and leans close to speak.) Powerful women should not have secrets between them!
Carla finds her lighter and holds it, slightly shaking, with both hands.
Michelle: (touching the fabric of Carla’s dress) Really, Carla, you must tell me. I would never forgive you for withholding from me..
Carla: You want to know? (tries to light the cigarette, but drops the lighter) Oh god.. (they both reach to the ground) You really want to know? (they squat. Michelle lights the cigarette) Him. (she nods towards Sarkozy.)
Michelle: Uhm… pardon?
Carla: Ya, him (looks down, slightly ashamed, inhales from the cigarette)
Michelle: (standing up and looking at the presidents.) But I don’t understand, he’s the preseident, why on earth would he do your wardrobe— (security walk by, Carla clutches Michelle and looks pleadingly. Michelle lowers her voice).
Sarkozy is standing and laughing, hands in pockets, beside Obama’s desk. His pants lift slightly. Michelle notices that Sarkozy’s baby-blue socks with white lace flowers are identical to Carla’s.
Michelle: Oh, I see..
Carla: (quietly) Yes, it’s true. Who knew? (she smokes) The president of France… wears women’s underpants.
wakes up at 3 in the morning.
The Working Guy: Hey guys, can you cut it out? I’ve got work in the morning and you’re having a powwow out here.
Roommate’s Hippy Friend: Hey man, we’re just tryin to have some positive beats, you know?
WG: You’re banging a drum outside my door, and I don’t even have a door, just this stupid piece of cloth.
Roommate #4: Oh, sorry. Maybe we can take it to mezzo forte.
WG: Maybe you can take it to the kitchen.
Roommate #3: But would you like some wine?
WG: Well, ok, if you insist.
Hippy: Duuude.
