I was driving back to work on a balmy Tuesday evening when my phone bleeped with a message from a colleague. It simply said "Asshole". Another bleep, another message from a colleague, again it just said "Asshole". Nothing else. Another bleep, this time a number I don't even recognise. Upon opening the message I am greeted by "Asshole". One more, from Boss this time. It reads: "That's ok, she is cute and funny. And you are old and you smell like cat pee. Burn in shame Johnsteele".
This was the second message I had from him. The first simply read, of course, "Asshole".
I had replied to him, almost pleading for forgiveness for my latest crime, which prompted the above text informing me of my general aroma of feline urine. Actually that may not be true. The "she" in question was the one who had informed Boss of my latest crime, and I was cowardly and exceptionally spinelessly trying to take the heat off myself by texting him to say she had crashed the work van into a wall earlier in the day.
Clearly my offence was worse than the near destruction of company property. (Again, that may be a slight exaggeration. It was more of a minor ding). What was my offence? What could possibly be worse than this?? What did "she" stitch me up to Boss about? Brace yourselves, it's a biggie.....
One of the daily tasks is to take all the clean ski pants and jackets, and hang them on the clothing rails. Whilst I was doing this one day, I found myself with one spare jacket, and no coat hangers. It's not like I didn't try. I searched everywhere for that last coat hanger. On the racks, out in the back room, at our shop 3 doors down, but there was no spare hangers to be found. So I did what any sane industrious individual would do. I put the clean jacket into the dirty laundry basket. This was the reason behind all the bile and vitriol I was receiving via text, as Boss had sent a text to everyone I know, and a lot of people I don't, explaining the situation and requesting they call me an Asshole. It also resulted in getting me jug fined. And I am still getting "Asshole" texts.
Jug fines are accumulated during the season. You do something wrong, you get fined a jug of beer. It's pretty Ronseal really. However I can't help but bitch about the fines I have had during the season.
My iPod was used at work on shuffle. The first song to come on was by Tom Jones. I got fined for having Tom Jones on my iPod. I have S Club 7 on there. And B*Witched. I would happily accept a jug for that.
I had my hair cut, and decided to spend the day without a beanie. I got fined for looking like an old Will Young.
Boss said something funny whilst I was holding a fart in. It came out. Jugged.
We are not allowed to poo in our toilet. It stinks out the shop. And I had a nasty incident with the auto-locking public toilets out the back of the store when it auto-unlocked itself mid-wipe and refused to lock again resulting in me awkwardly holding onto the door handle at least 2 foot away with one hand, trying to finish off with other. So I went to our new shop, which has a window, and air freshener, and had a poo there. Jugged.
After both of the above incidents, I joked that I was highly likely to get fined for getting a hard-on in public. I was fined for that. Boss then phoned the store later in the day to jug me again as he had just recalled the conversation.
I went to a colleagues party where the theme was gayness. I dressed like a gayer. I exposed my buttocks for the camera. Boss was shown this photo and jugged me for it. Then again for making him feel sick so he had to go home early.
And most recently, I was jugged for the story which I recounted above. And instead of my name on the schedule, it now simply reads; Asshole.
So Friday night was the night when the jug fines were spent. I had accumulated 9 since the last one a few months back. This was immediately crossed out and increased to 10 by Boss for no other reason than he just can. Needless to say it was a drunken night of which the details will be spared. You have all been drunk before, you know the score. But my buttocks and nipples did not make an appearance this time round.
This was after a group of us at work went Heli-Rafting. For the uninitiated, those who have asked, and any of you having problems working out what it is, I'll break it down for you. You get in a helicopter (the "Heli" part) and get taken to the rafts up the river. You then get out of the helicopter, get in the rafts , and go rafting down the river (the "Rafting" part). It was amazing. As one who, as I have previously stated, has never been into watersports it was an experience I loved. I was unsure at first, as I thought I would freak out like a little girl if my face got wet, but at one point when the river was calmer a few of us got out and went for a swim. The rapids were a rush to ride down, and by the end I was facing a further dilemma. I have previously stated that I was thinking of sticking around for the summer. Before Friday, I had swayed back to returning to Canada for another winter season. Now, after discovering that I could quite get into watersports, I am back to staying. I can only assume that I will go back and forth over this matter a number of times before the decision is made for me. So will someone please make that decision?
I would also be grateful for some advice from anyone that bothers to read this crap. The end of season party is a fancy dress party where the theme is a letter. The letters are S, K, and I. So we have to turn up dressed as something beginning with one of those letters.
Anyone that knows me will know I have a penchant to either offend, get naked, or wear some kind of revealing, possibly women's clothing. So like young Nazi Prince Harry (without the questionable parentage), I will be turning up in something outrageous. Some ideas I have been playing with so far include Stephen Hawking (if I can get a wheelchair), Michael Jackson (work it out, it begins with "K"), Slutty Schoolgirl, or KKK member (probably not a great idea). I know for a fact that half of you reading this are as twisted as me, so please, throw some suggestions my way.
That little bit at the bottom again: I am filled with shame today after snowboarding into a young child resulting in the child having to be taken off the mountain in the blood wagon. He turned out to be okay, but more importantly so did I.
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