(Work)Life Pre-Russia, Pre-Lawschoolio: Unexpectedly, Delightfully Peculiar

As some of the members of my friendz and family flock already know, while biding my time in motherland Columbus before blasting off agaaaaaiiin (<stole that line from Team Rocket), I’ve been working in between a small law firm and an interpreting agency (literally in between – my desk is positioned in no-man’s-land limbo terrain between the two fine establishments) respectively run by a hilarious, wise-cracking attorney and his particular-though-warm, equally entertaining Russian wife.  It’s been a dandy and unexpectedly bizarre work environment, which is my ideal since I seek out and thrive on eccentricity like Voldemort thrives on unicorn blood in the Sorcerer’s Stone shenanigans…….

youarewhatyoueat

Anywhooooo, since I’ve been working here for over two months now, at least 47,056 extremely odd incidents have already taken place, but sadly my lil pea brain can’t remember them all and, even if it could, my lil pea fingers would hurt a lot and maybe even snap like a dang kitkat if I attempted to type up an account of all the weird things that happen in my life (even if merely limiting it to my werq world).  So, in light of these pitiable realities, I’ll limit myself to sharing with you a fistful of noteworthy recent events just to fingerpaint ya a clearer picture of the current goings-on of my vida loca, chica.

  • Some random bros came in one day about a week ago and, apparently, took QUITE a zoom in photo of my face while I was talking on the phone, which, I’ve just found out, is to be used on the company website.  Unsurprisingly, my glorious 15 minutes of fame includes an extreme close up shot of my unflattering giggle face.  I imagine that the caption under the photo on the company website will read, “As per the Employment Non-Discrimination Act of 2015, we now hire psychopaths.  Don’t be alarmed; we only hire the upbeat ones 😉 Shhhshhhshhh…”
  • A conversation that I had with my boss on the phone once:

“Hey Jim; there’s a client out here asking for you.”

“WHATCHU SAY?!?”

“MANE, I DON’T EVEN KNOW ANYMO’!”

“Well, sheeeeit tell him to come on BACK.”

“Aight, homey.”

And we never discussed this exchange again.  (Just as a side note: my boss is a 68 year old attorney)

  • Once, just as I was about to step into the elevator to take it down to the ground floor, a large metal coggish rod fell right out of the top of the sick, little metal death box’s ceiling, landing at my feet and terrorizing the woman and child behind me who had been following me to what appears to have been our imminent doom.  When I told my boss, he responded with a laugh and said, “You do what you want, but I’m taking the stairs.” (Incidentally, the elevator was repaired shortly thereafter.  I still take the stairs.)
  • Today, unbeknownst to me, the firemen in the hood had earlier used a nearby fire hydrant, which sent demon-possessed bubbles rushing all throughout our building pipes.  Classically, hoping for a glass of water, I instead received an explosion in the face.  This may have been alright, I might just have been able to have proceeded unfazed and with some lingering dignity from this event, had I chosen to forego my nice scalding hot afternoon cup o’ tea.  I did not.  I came out of that one with neither poise nor dignity, only extremely burnt red sausage hands and a newfound fear of hot water – or, as psychologists refer to it, Agua Caliente Diavolo.
  • BREAKING NEWS: as I was writing about my hot water burns above, I received a call from my boss claiming to be the head of the Walmart lingerie department and informing me of some great new sales.  I found out from him that there’s a sweet, new 2 for 1 sale taking place this very moment, so I ordered two of everything – who am I to pass up a topnotch Wally World offer like that?
  • About once a week, I have a very pleasant phone conversation with a prison inmate calling for an attorney who is frequently not in the office.  So that his call from prison isn’t completely wasted, we usually have a quick, profound chatsky.  So far, we’ve discussed the subtleties of prison cuisine, the philosophy of forgiveness and regret, redemption tactics, my favorite Halloween candies – pretty much all of the important stuff.
  • I was once asked to dispose of a single m&m; on a separate occasion, I was asked to frighten away from the parking lot outside of our building a man named Pablo who can’t/won’t stop spinning around a huge, bedazzled sign advertising his used car company.  I’m not yet certain how to best go about describing my job duties/responsibilities on my resume.

Regrettably, I’m gonna have to stop myself there because the third degree burns on my frankfurter fingers are starting to flare up.  Gotta go run and grab some bandages for these blistering bad boys.  If my next entry is difficult to read and words look like this: lksjaghlksjdfgksj;ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhfd sdkgjhskl;jgh dffffffffg sdghsdklg;hl, just know that my fingers will have likely been amputated and I will be attempting to type with my mangled fists.  On that note, catch ya later, gators. 😀

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