The Cutie at Work

So a wave of new people started work at my office on Monday. Among them was an attractive 20-something male. I immediately cursed my decision to not do my hair that day.

I was sitting at my desk doing my work when my boss brought him over to meet me.
"Haley, I want you to meet Walker."
I acted like I had never seen him before in my life and had no idea a hottie was now in close proximity 3 days a week.
"Hi!" I stuck out my hand. "Nice to meet you! Welcome to Swingle Collins!"
My boss gave me a funny look like: 'Why are you in such a good mood at 9 am? P.S. you're doing bitch work today.'
"It's nice to meet you, too Haley," he said. He might as well have gotten down on one knee because, well, he sounded really sincere.
"Haley," my boss started, "We are going to have to move you. Since Walker is a producer (aka a higher position than you), he's going to need your desk."
"Oh no problem at all!" I said. "Let me just grab some of my stuff!" Que big smile. My boss looks at me like: 'Who smiles about getting kicked out of their desk??'

I get up and follow my boss out into the lobby. She then turns to me and goes, "By moving you, I meant that you actually have no desk and no computer now. This is just until the renovations are done in two weeks. For now, just ask Fara, Misty or April if they need help with anything."
Super. All of the stuff I usually do demands a computer. That damn cutie!
"Ok, will do."
So I get work done and Monday is over. P.S. I still haven't found out if he is married yet so that is on the to-do list for Wednesday.

Wednesday rolls around and without a computer or desk, I don't have anything to do. Therefore, I go over and wait by my boss's desk to ask her for something to do. Then, a producer walks up behind me to wait as well and then starts asking me questions: where do I go to school? Why did I choose SMU? What's my major? I start thinking this is odd because I've been here for over a month and everyone in the office already knows about me.
He then asks, "What do you need to ask Michelle (our boss)?"
"Ohh well that new producer needed a desk to work at so I got kicked out of mine so I need work to do that doesn't require a computer," I say.
"Right," he says, "I'm the new producer. Walker, remember?"
My face drops. WTF? I have issues.
"Ohh, right, I was just....umm...I meant that...wellllll..." Thankfully Michelle walks out of her cube and starts asking Walker if he had any trouble signing in. Meanwhile, I am literally cursing myself in my head using any four letter word I can think of. I'm such an idiot.
He turns to go and as he does he says, "Bye, Haley, see you later." Que red face.
I find work to do and then Wednesday is over. I was so embarrassed that I didn't even look for the ring on his finger. I had suffered enough to risk being caught on that.

So it's Friday. I have binders to make and I need my three-hole-punch.
'Perfect!' I think. 'I'll have to go over to my old desk (aka Walker's desk) and get my three-hole-punch.'
I calm down and remind myself what his name is and what he looks like so I don't look so dumb again. I walk over to my old desk and ask him where my three-hole-punch is.
"Umm..I have no idea," he says.
"WHAAAT? You gave away my three-hole-punch?!"
"Ohh, I had no idea they were so important." He smirks.
Trying to gain some composure, I say, "Well, all the other ones in the office suck and that one was brand new." Seriously, if only he knew how awesome that three-hole-punch was and how good ones are so hard to come by, then he wouldn't be looking at me like some psychotic freak who has a mental breakdown over her three-hole-punch. But he doesn't understand. Sigh.
"I think someone may have put it in the supply closet," he says. He is now looking at me with a blank look on his face. I am quickly losing points.
"Ohh, well, that makes perfect sense then. Thanks."
As I am about to turn and walk away, he takes a sip of his coffee with his left hand and there, on his ring finger is a solid gold ring.
"WTF??" I start to think, "WHO drinks using their left hand?? Doesn't he know that when you set a table, the drink goes on the right because everyone drinks with their right hand? I bet he did that on purpose to show that he was taken. Whatever, I can't be with anyone who doesn't understand the severity of a missing three-hole-punch. It obviously wasn't meant to be. It just sucks that our relationship had to come to an end over office supplies...oh and the fact that he's already married. I guess it could have ended over worse things."
I walk back to April's desk, use her three-hole-punch (which isn't as good and I'm having separation anxiety) and resolve that I'm going to be single for the rest of my life.

Oh well, I'm single now and still having the time of my life right? RIGHT!

The Receptionist is on to me...

So I finally have time for a new blog post. Not really, but still.

Anyway, I started a new job at a new insurance brokerage firm. And no, I did not get kicked out of the last one for my shenanigans. That was an internship that had a pre-set ending date, thank you very much.

On the first day of work, I immediately began sizing up my coworkers to see who would be my friend, who could take a joke, and who would forever think of me as an immature 21-year-old (guilty). My task that day was to shadow the receptionist. She would show me how to work the phones, introduce me to people around the office and basically orient me to the company. Having a 45 year difference between us was difficult, to say the least. Even though we were both female and spoke English, there was definitely a barrier: generational, that is. Needless to say, we didn't see things the same way. No, there is no animosity between us; we respect each other very much. We just see and sense things differently. Hence, my suspicion of her suspicion of me.

On the second day of work, I read the employee manual. On page 64 section B part 2, there was a description of disallowed activities in the office workspace. A few lines down, I read, "No horseplay, joking around, or pranks. No unapproved tape recorders or voice recorders. Keep recreational conversation to a minimum." WHAAAAAAAAT?! I dropped my head in disappointment and I think I even shed a tear (or is that my allergies?). Regardless, that may as well have been a death sentence, "WHAT am I going to do at work?!" I thought in exasperation, "I literally don't know what to do with myself now."

Surprisingly, the thing I was most upset about was the whole tape-recording thing. My friend gave me this great practical joke idea where you put a sign on the copier saying that it is now voice activated with "the password". People are confused and don't know what "the password" is so they start yelling out random passwords at a copier that is unresponsive (because it's not voice activated). You record the whole thing. Well obviously this is now impossible. Sigh.

I walk into the lobby where the receptionist is and ask for a pen so I can sign the employee manual. It takes me about a minute of staring at the signature line wondering if I really want to agree to no pranks but I resolve that I do want this job. The receptionist gives me a sideways look and goes, "Are you going to sign that?"

"Umm, yes, I'm just looking for the line..."

"It's right here." *points*

"Oh, yes, right."

"Did you read the whole thing?"

*I look up*

She's either thinking, "Kids these days never read anything if it's not on a computer or tomigotchi," "I hope she read page 64, section B, part 2 twice," or "Have I checked the mail yet?"

I give her my paper and drag my feet back to my desk.

On the third day of work, my boss realized I was working in the dark. The way my cubicle was set up blocked out a lot of light. She decided I needed a lamp. I brightened up a bit. I was thinking I got to pick out my lamp that would go at my desk. Wrong.

After lunch, the receptionist calls me over to look at some of the lamps she picked out for me. One word to describe all of them: BORING.

"Umm..is that all the lamps they have to offer?"

*Sideways glance* "Well I thought these would offer you the most light."

"Well, umm, are there more pages of lamps?"

"I really think these are your best bet."

A stare-down ensues. I give way to seniority.

"All right..."

I got a lamp like this:

When I really wanted a lamp like this:

I bet she knew it too.

On day 4, I brought a salad to work. She saw me eating in the break room and said, "Salad, huh?" I stopped chewing for a moment to decide what her comment actually meant. She either said, "You're a fat chick at heart; you're not fooling anyone," "There's no way you can eat a salad every day and be satisfied," or "That looks like a really good salad."

We broke eye contact and I resumed chewing.

On the 5th day, Friday, I came to work with barely any make-up on, my hair pulled into a tight bun and a headband on. Yes, I went out Thursday night and woke up too late to do my make-up or fix my hair. Therefore, the headband was a failed attempt to cover up my God-awful hair.

"Nice headband."

"Thanks."

I walked to my desk and sat down. I paused. Wait, was that sarcasm? Did I see a smirk on her face as she "complimented" me or am I imagining that? Let's think....

She was really saying, "I know you were out late last night," "You look like shit," or "I like that headband." Just as I was about to run into the lobby yelling, "You are NOT my mother," a co-worker stopped by my desk for a memo and said, "Oh, Haley, I like your headband."

Ok, so either everyone thinks I look like shit today or likes my headband. Or thinks I'm 12 years old.

So that was my first week. Looking forward to many more.

The Office: The Grand Finale

So Kelly is the brains of this whole Russian Mafia Operation and I suppose I am the carrier-outer. Whatever. I like it.

Friday was our last day and we decided we needed to tell Nathan the truth....but NOT without one last addition. AKA the GRAND FINALE.

We decide that Toby has been fired. Rather, Kelly informs me that Marsha (our boss) received an anonymous phone call that if Toby is not fired, the entire office's safety is in jeopardy. Therefore, to protect the 70+ people, Marsha must quietly inform Toby that he must clean out his desk and remove himself from the office and speak to no one of this incident.

Conveniently, Kelly and I have meetings with Marsha Friday morning. This is when she lets such private information "slip out" and thus we are the only ones privy to the information, duh.

We inform Nathan of recent occurrences during lunch as always.

He sits down and asks how our meetings with Marsha went.

Kelly: "Mine went pretty well. She liked the work I did this summer. She did let something interesting slip out, however...Toby has been fired. But she told me not to tell anyone."

Me: "No way! She told me that too! But she told me not to tell anyone. And then she felt bad for saying it..."

Nathan: "Oh my God. Are you guys serious?! Why did Toby get fired??? It's the gambling thing, isn't it?! I knew it!"

Me: "Nathan, I seriously doubt Toby is in trouble for gambling. For real, he is in the middle of building a new house. And he is money-savy. He's not stupid enough to get in so much debt."

Kelly: "Yeah, I don't know what it is, but he's moving out during lunch. You should see his office when we get back. All of his stuff is gone!"

Nathan: "OHMIGOD! You're kidding! I have to see!"

As soon as lunch is over, we get in the elevator and ride up to our floor. Nathan is looking expectantly at our floor number and trying to use his super-mental powers to get us there quicker. The doors open and he runs down the hall....

.....to see Toby quietly working at his desk.

"Hi, Nathan." Toby says. (He knows what's up)

Nathan: "But...Kelly and Haley said you were fired."

Me: "Nathan, there is something we have to tell you..."

Kelly and I start giggling.

"....Toby isn't being hunted by the Russian Mafia."

Nathan: "He isn't?! ARE YOU SURE?!"

Kelly: "Yes, we're sure."

Me: "We made the whole thing up."

Nathan: "But...you were so serious...and convincing."

Me: "I know. You actually gave us the idea when you told us the story about Toby being guarded by security at his old job."

Nathan: "OH my gosh! I forgot I told you that!"

Me: "Yeah...we kind of took that and ran with it. And then we made up the whole vandalized car story and changed name and being fired and everything. You almost did more work than us with your deciding he was an indebted pool shark and his last name used to be Kowasaki and everything."

Nathan: "But you said it all with such a straight face!"

Me: "Actually, I was laughing the whole time but you never noticed because you always giggle as well."

Nathan: "That's true I suppose..."

Kelly: "And you never questioned the whole 'person-slamming-their-hands-into-the-windshield-without-any-blood-or-evidence' thing."

Nathan: "Now that you mention it, that does sound kind of fishy...."

We are all laughing hysterically, even Nathan, Marsha and Toby.

Nathan: "You know, I was really scared of Toby. I thought that if I associated myself with him that the Russian Mafia might come after me as well. I even told my parents."

Me: "YOU TOLD YOUR PARENTS?!" I'm actually quite concerned. This is serious.

Nathan: "Yeah, I told my dad the whole story and then I asked him if it was safe to continue working here. He said, 'That sure is interesting, son.'"

Toby: "You see, Haley! Your actions could have repurcussions! Nathan could have quit his job over nothing and been jobless!" He is being half-kidding...I think.

Me: "Oh well it was a harmless prank and everything is good now..." (Dodged a freaking bullet, I tell you.)

Nathan: "You're telling me! I started looking for clues around Toby's office about how he's not a real Texan. I mean, he has that huge Texas flag on his wall. Now seriously, who else besides a non-Texan who is trying to convince others he is Texan needs a huge ostentatious flag on his wall like that?"

Me: "I don't know, maybe a proud Texan?"

Nathan: "Shut up, Haley. Anyway, I also started looking at pictures of his kids and began thinking they were fake. I mean, they didn't look that much like him. They could have been posers for all I know. And that whole story about him babysitting his grandkids? Come on. He doesn't look old enough to have grand kids. And even so, if those kids aren't his real kids, then he doesn't have real grand kids."

Kelly: "See what I mean, Nathan? You did just as much work as us with keeping this whole thing going!"

Nathan: "I suppose you're right. Even so, I'm glad you told me before you left so I'm not afraid of Toby for the rest of my life."

And then we all bust out into fits of laughter again. Nathan walks Kelly and I to our car.

Nathan: "I don't know what I am going to do without you guys. I really am going to miss you."

Kelly: "Well perhaps you will have to hire us as your personal assistants/entertainers."

Nathan: "I will try to factor that into the budget."


Honestly, I actually will miss that place. And all the potential pranks that await there.

The Office: Part Deux

It’s the last week of our internship so Kelly and I thought it necessary to continue with the whole Toby-is-hiding-from-the-Russian-Mafia thing. We’re brainstorming Tuesday morning when Kelly all of a sudden decides we’re giving Toby a ride home that evening.

Me: “Whyyyyy are we giving Toby a ride home?”

Kelly: “Because someone vandalized his car last night so he couldn’t drive to work today. His wife dropped him off but she can’t pick him up.”

Me: “Perfect! He’ll ask us because we already carpool—so he’ll just want to join.”

Kelly: “Ok, sure.”

Me: “I can’t wait for lunch.”


Kelly and I are eating in the cafeteria when Nathan joins. Immediately upon arriving, Nathan informs us for the 5th time today that he has a few meetings in the afternoon. I take this as the perfect opportunity to carry out Operation B.S.

Me: “What time are your meetings today, Nathan?”

Nathan: “2:00, 2:30, and 3:00.”

Me: “Do you have anything to do after that or are you just going to go home?”

Nathan: “Ohhh that’s a good idea! No, I don’t have anything to do.”

Me: “Lucky! Kelly and I have to stay until 5:30 today!”

Nathan: (shocked) “Why? You never stay that late.”

Kelly: “I know. We have to give Toby a ride home.”

Nathan: “YOU HAVE TO GIVE TOBY A RIDE HOME?! Oh man, are you serious? Do you know where he lives?”

Kelly and I exchange nervous glances—we hadn’t thought that far.

Kelly: “No, he didn’t tell us. I think we are meeting his wife somewhere though.”

Me: "We're on a need-to-know basis."

Nathan: “Oh good! Because he lives like 45 minutes away in ___.”

Me: "As far as you know..."

Nathan: “Wait, WHY are you giving TOBY a ride home?”

Kelly: “Because he doesn’t have a car.”

Nathan: “What? Why doesn’t he have a car?”

Kelly: “He went out to his car this morning and someone had taken like a baseball bat to it this morning and broke the windshield in. He couldn’t drive it to work today so his wife dropped him off.”

Nathan: “Oh my gosh! Are you serious?! WHY is Toby a target??”

Me: “I don’t know, but I feel so bad.”

Nathan: “Ok, what is going on with Toby? There’s no way people are after him because he’s a claims adjuster for an insurance broker. There has to be something going on. Maybe he got into some gambling trouble and doesn’t have the money to get out of it.”

I can’t even look at Kelly or else I’ll laugh hysterically and blow it.

Me: “No way. He’s building a new house. There’s no way he could build a new house if he is being threatened for his life for gambling.”

Nathan: “Hmm…I guess so. But there has got to be something else going on here. So it was a baseball bat?”

Kelly: “Well, they don’t know if it was a baseball bat exactly. It could be anything: a crow bar, a person pushing someone else really hard into the car, a pole, or someone just hit the windshield really hard with their hands.”

I am about to start cracking up. Is it possible to break a windshield by hitting it? Not only that, but no blood?

This is of no concern to Nathan.

Nathan: “Well, ugh, why is he telling YOU TWO all of this? I was talking to him earlier for 30 minutes and he didn’t tell me anything!”

Me: “I don’t know. It’s probably because we are women and women are more sympathetic than men. If he told another guy in the office that someone busted his car up, they’d probably just say, ‘Oh suck it up.’”

Nathan: “I wouldn’t. I’ve been trying to talk to him a lot lately and be there for him. I mean, I’m probably his 3rd best friend in the office after you two.”

I’m dying.

Me: “Well he’ll probably confide in you a lot more when we leave here on Friday.”

Nathan: “Ok, yeah, good.”


So we go back upstairs after lunch and I have to inform Toby of recent events.

I tell him, “So….I just gave Nathan an update on your ‘life’.”

Toby: “OHHH NOOOOO! (laughing) Is that why when he just walked by here he gave me a funny look?”

Me: “Haha yeah probably.”

Toby: “I can’t believe he believes you! This is too good—I have to get in on this. Perhaps HR would like to as well….”

The Office: Operation B.S.

I’m horrible at lying. However, I can never pass up the opportunity to pull the wool over someone’s eyes (see Interpret What You Will of December 2010).

Usually my friends can tell I’m lying because I can’t help smiling and laughing when I’m telling them something ridiculous. My co-worker, however, laughs enough on his own that when I’m playing a practical joke on him, I can laugh away and he still believes me. But whenever I’m about to start laughing so hard and am about to give my joke away, I have to put a bite in my mouth to keep myself from howling with laughter (we are usually at lunch when my bull****ing commences).

Anyway, this began last week at lunch when Kelly, Nathan and I were at lunch. We ask Nathan how his meeting with Toby went and he replies, “Good, good, it all went very well. You know, he told me some crazy stories about when he was in claims at this other company in the northeast (we work in the insurance industry). The Russian Mafia would call him and tell him to give them the money for their cars that crashed and he wouldn’t because they did it on purpose and that’s insurance fraud and that’s illegal. Anyway, they told him to ‘Watch yo self’ and then later there was a black tinted low-rider circling his building. He had to call for an escort out. You know, some people have to get help from some sort of service and go into hiding after stuff like that.”

Kelly: “Yeah, like they have to change their names and stuff.”

Nathan (misinterpreting Kelly’s comment): “Oh my gosh! Did Toby change his name?!”

This is when a light bulb goes off in my head and I immediately seize the opportunity presented.

Me: “You mean you didn’t know?!”

Nathan: “No! How do you know?? I had no idea!”

Me: “Well Kelly and I started working here the same day as Toby and he looked a little unnerved. I started talking to him but he wasn’t responding. I kept saying, ‘Toby…Toby…Toby? Are you ok?’ And he just looked at me with a confused look on his face and goes, ‘Who’s Toby?’ I was really surprised and said, ‘Uhh…that’s your name isn’t it?’ He got all fidgety and nervous and said, ‘Oh yes, yeah my name is Toby. Yes that is my name.’ So then I made him tell me why he didn’t know his own name and he was so flustered he ended up telling me the whole story. He and his family had to move from the northeast to Texas and change their name and everything. It’s been really hard on his kids.”

Nathan: “I KNEW his name wasn’t Toby! He looks half-asian or something. And his last name? I mean come on, that’s not his real last name. He had to have changed it from Kowasaki or something. This is insane.”

Me: “I know! But don’t tell anyone. I don’t think he wants the whole office to know because he’s just trying to stay low key and rebuild his life. He doesn’t want any special treatment.”

Nathan: “Oh yeah sure, sure. Of course. Wait, isn’t he moving into a new house?”

Me: “Yeah, they’re building one right now. His family is currently staying in an extended-stay hotel.” (This is actually true. It helps to have some truth to a prank. It makes it easier and more believable.)

Nathan: “Are you sure? He told me they were living in a small house.”

Me: “No, he told me they were staying in a hotel.”

Nathan: “Well, I’m positive he told me a small house.”

Me: “It sounds like he needs to get his story straight before telling people where he “lives”.”

Nathan: “Yeah, this is a pretty serious predicament. He shouldn’t just be going around telling people different things. They are bound to figure it out.”

Me: “I agree.”

Nathan: “Well I’m going to try to get to the bottom of this. I’m gonna talk to him more often and see if he tells me anything.”

Me: “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. He’s in a really fragile place right now.”

Nathan: “I’ll be discreet.”

So lunch ends and we go back to work. I am almost peeing my pants in the elevator and HAVE to tell Toby what I just did. I immediately go to his office and recount the entire tale. He says, “You are terrible! I can’t believe he believed you!”

Me: “I know! I’m sorry, but it was just too good to pass up. I’ll tell him before Kelly and I’s last day, I promise.”

Toby: “Ok, but we’ll have a little fun before you guys leave.”


Sounds like a plan.