Toasting ex colleagues who should be here. Remember Barbara who accidentally hit reply all when she wrote “it’s only money” after the company wide announcement of an earnings hit during Covid.
Pass me another S'more, and I'll tell you the tale, 'Dig me no Grave'. You know the weird guy, Roberty-Howard, in the Faxing Department? He says this tale is based on a real incident from way back when.
Outside, a storm raged in sheets. Lightning cracked. The power flickered. Our UPS systems failed. The AC ceased blowing. I smelled the odor of Tanya's lunch lingering in the stagnant air and felt nauseous . We sat alone together, waiting for a sign of what was next.
Then, Tanya farted. Long. Slow. Silent. Its smell permeated the dark, stuffy room. I cried a little and puked a little in my mouth. Cheese steak...with pickles and onions.
Gossip at the Antifa campfire:
OK, so we are supposed to be "Anti-gun Socialist Abortion-loving Communist Trans Antifa Drag Queens" who are rioting across Portlandia?
"I heard that like literally everyone in the office is sleeping with the new gal, Debbie! Well, except me!"
He laughed then, generously, at his own implied predicament.
He (the gossiper, Joe) felt it ok to say this because while Debbie was on the company camping trip too, she had by then already gotten up and turned in for sleep. Leaving only Joe and an assorted mix of a dozen other coworkers behind to continue their late night campfire talk.
"You heard about REDACTED? He was fired for looking at porn sites. At work. On a US government computer system that is monitored. And everyone knows is monitored."
"So what did you guys do?"
"We talked the painters out of some white paint and paint rollers, then we went up on the roof and painted "F%ck the USSR". In Russian. So the spy satellites could read it. But management figured it out and we had to paint it out."