The government has talent…at least that’s what my email said. My government agency is conducting a nationwide talent contest. All employees are encouraged to showcase their skills which according to the email include “singing, dancing, magician or stand up comedy.” The competition will be held in D.C. so I would have to send a tape. Singing and dancing are immediately off the board. I considered doing a magic act that would be like David Blaine gone wrong. I’m not sure how long they would watch a tape of me throwing a deck of cards against a window or sliding glass door. The comedy act is definitely the way to go. Based on my first nine months on the job, I would start off with George Carlin’s list of seven words you can’t say on television, but you can say in a training class. Then I would transition into Dice Clay’s Hickory Dickory Dock bit and finish with a few armpit farts. You know how we do.
Jersey Gas has added a new facet to his game. He now uses the term “GD” early and often. Of course he says the whole phrase rather than just the initials. If he worked at my last place of employment, he would have been exorcised around 10 am Tuesday morning.
I created an awkward moment at our engineering meeting this afternoon. Our boss wasn’t there to run the meeting, so we were all sitting around and running our mouths. One guy was asking for some basketball tips for his son’s team. I recommended that he watch the movie Hoosiers. He could use the drills from that since they are very basic. He’s also the assistant coach so I told him that he could show up to the practices drunk, similar to Dennis Hopper’s alcoholic character in the movie. The joke received laughs from the people who remembered the movie. As soon as the joke left my mouth however, I remembered that the guy sitting behind me had been on leave for nine months for alcohol rehab. Luckily the rest of the room didn’t know it. It was privileged information, therefore it was my privilege to feel awkward. Building relationships…enhancing a career.

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Three hundred steps away from the beginning, and three hundred steps toward who knows what. This is Post #300. Assuming that each one takes about an hour and a half to write, I have spent 450 hours complaining about work, lack of work, noisy neighbors, dog shit and jackasses. Looking back, I can’t help feeling that I could have had a V8. (No one probably finds that amusing, but for some reason I do. Sober as a judge over here as well.)
Another co-worker approached me today and opened with “Hey, weren’t you in that training class next week.” It seems that he was in it as well. He immediately began to discuss F-bombs, and when they are appropriate. We didn’t cover the other bomb specifically, but we had an understanding of what was on the table. He said that he has never seen anything like it in the public sector. I laughed because he was subtly insinuating that the Hindenburg’s presentation was acceptable in the private industry…as if each day on the private side was filled with profanity laced arguments, three martini lunches and rampant drug use. One of the core values of my last employer was, “We promote a Christian work environment.” If the Hindenburg made the same presentation at my last place of employment, he would have been escorted to the door and received a biblical sandal in his backside. Afterward, there would have been an emotional and awkward prayer meeting. I almost miss those days…almost.
