Ginger Apocalypse 2016: The Good, the Dead, and the Sugary

Time has passed in the land of the ginger zombies. Though the sugary horror continues, the unrelenting march of the seasons continues. Spring turns to summer, which bleeds into autumn, which in turn changes to winter. The cycle continues, on and on, while the ginger zombies continue their domination of the world.

Sarah, the reluctant hero of our holiday tales, was last seen in Romania, running a zombie carnival with her lumberjack-crush, Jon. Though the zombies were entertained for a time, the shaky peace was soon shattered, and the two found themselves on the run from the ginger zombies once more.

Jon and Sarah wandered to the English countryside, where long abandoned manor houses dotted a wild landscape. The zombie population was low (with most of them having moved on to more populated regions of the cookie world), the homes were stately, and our heroes were weary. They soon set up camp in Frostingshire Manor, and things seemed peaceful.

For a time.

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“First we take over the table, then… THE WORLD.”

Unfortunately, peace doesn’t last in a time of sweet monsters. When their new friend Darryl came back from a supply run, he brought more than food back to our lumberjack-and-jill. And now chaos has overtaken Frostingshire Manor, while our heroes once again fight for their lives.

Jon has taken up his trusty chainsaw once more, dismembering one of the deadly sugar zombies on his front walk:

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A proud homeowner, Jon made sure the walk remained impeccably clean.

At his feet sits a second Molotov cocktail, the first of which he threw at a zombie lurking near one of the large trees on the estate. The zombie has yet to realize she will be burnt sugar in but a few moments:

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Two minutes from now: “THAT ZOMBIE’S ON FIYAAAAAAH!”

But as prepared as Jon may seem, he needs to be careful. A third ginger zombie has crept onto the second story balcony, ready to leap down on an unsuspecting cookie at ANY TIME:

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“Be vewy vewy quiet. I’m hunting COOKIE.”

After a rough start (in which an eye was lost to a hungry zombie mouth), Sarah has come into her own over by Darryl’s truck. The memory of her time as a lumberjill has flowed into her arm, and while she may not be wearing plaid, she IS wielding her axe with deadly precision. Darryl’s truck bed, once loaded with supplies, is now piled high with the remains of the zombies that have crossed Sarah’s path:

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*cue zombie country song*

Unfortunately, the owner of that truck was… not so lucky. Darryl met a tragic end when he tripped, fell into the pond… and was the first to discover that even the local wildlife has succumbed to the sugary zombie virus:

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Zombie ducky, you’re the one. You make bath time so much OH GOD, THE AGONY!

Nearby, another zombie skips rope with Darryl’s intestines, which is rude, even for a zombie:

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Crossfit began marketing to zombies almost immediately.

Watching over all this is the first zombie to attack the manor, a zombie Jon strung up as a warning to the others. A warning they promptly ignored, but it was a valiant attempt:

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“C’mon guys. I just wanted to HANG OUT.”

Will Jon and Sarah repel the zombies once more? Will Sarah get a really cool eyepatch now? Is that duck an ominous portent of things to come? Will the world be overrun by zombie ANIMALS too? Tune in next year to find out!

Ginger Apocalypse 2014: The Refrostening

Another year has come and gone, and the time of the ginger zombies is upon us once more. When last we checked in with Sarah, our lumberjill (jessica? jane?) turned loving housewife, she had been avenging the death of her beloved Jimmy, taken from her less than a year after meeting him. Their marriage had been short but sweet, and Sarah grieved deeply for the death of her man.

But after escaping the forest clearing in the truck of a wandering lumberjack, Sarah found herself remembering her younger days. The days before tiny sugary zombies swarmed across the candy globe. When she had lived up north and worn a lot of plaid and chopped down trees for fun. Despite herself, Sarah once again felt a stirring of emotions for her companion.

Jon the Lumberjack may have liked Sarah well enough, but in true outdoorsman fashion, his first instinct was survival. For some time, Jon and Sarah traveled around the world, trying to carve out a safe haven for themselves. However, it soon became evident that the world was overrun with ginger zombies. Sweet cookie humanity had no hope of beating back the zombie scourge.

So one day, while the two were wandering down a Romanian road, decapitating zombies and talking, Sarah made a radical suggestion. What if, instead of fighting zombies… they learned to live WITH them? Jon mulled this over, but when they stumbled upon the old gypsy wagon, it seemed almost natural to just embrace it. After all, they were pretty nomadic as it was.

And so, Jon and Sarah became gypsies, and they ran a small carnival to entertain the zombies. It turns out Sarah was right- it was much easier to live with the undead than to fight them:

Undead fun fair, now open for business.

Undead fun fair, now open for business.

Jon has grown his beard out and dyed his hair to better fit the role. Little ginger zombies come from all over to visit the traveling fair:

This zombie seems confused- is this ring toss or intestine toss?

This zombie seems confused- is this ring toss or intestine toss?

But it’s not all fun and games out here- one of the little zombies has snuck into one of the booths. Jon better be careful, or his gypsy charade will meet a tragic end:

Imma gonna nom you.

Imma gonna nom you.

Sarah has also embraced the gypsy theme, working from their cart as a fortune teller:

"I see... death in your future. Not really much of a surprise there. The cards always say the same thing, really."

“I see… death in your future. Not really much of a surprise there. The cards always say the same thing, really.”

The last customer got a little… HANDSY. And MOUTHSY. And BITESY with our heroine. And so, she impaled the creature with a spare tent pole:

Ain't no zombie getting the (gum)drop on our girl.

Ain’t no zombie getting the (gum)drop on our girl.

Yes, the show is thriving, and some zombies just can’t wait to take their turn at the games:

"Must... win... skeleton... goldfish"

“Must… win… skeleton… goldfish”

Of course, there are some… unsavory aspects to running a zombie carnival. But Jon and Sarah have learned that the best way to keep the zombies from attacking them is to provide them with piles of fresh offal and meat:

You gotta do what you gotta do.

You gotta do what you gotta do.

But at the end of the night, Jon and Sarah will curl up by their fire, happy, safe (mostly), and together:

So toasty.

So toasty.

What more could you ask for during the holidays?

BONUS: Kitty with frosting on his nose:

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“Little Yellow Clock or Why is Alissa Still Away?”

Today, instead of another installment of the thrilling adventures of Zeldissa, I have something else for you. This is mostly because there WAS no adventuring today. Because Ginger Assistant was elsewhere in the office all day. I was pretty lonely without her… so I wrote her this song.

***

It’s midway

Through a Monday

And I have nothing left to do

Just callbacks

And some feedback

For our ever-dwindling crew

 

I’m so bored

Here at this keyboard

That I’ve started timing calls

Here in this Hell

Answering emails

And staring blankly at the walls

 

Oooooohhhhhhhhhhh, Alissa

You don’t know how much I’ve missed ya

 

Locked here in this tiny cube

You really haven’t got a clue

How dull my life is without you

 

Oooooohhhhhhhhhhh, Alissa

You don’t know how much I’ve missed ya

 

I miss ya…….

 

The clock ticks away

The last hours of the day

But my god, this afternoon won’t die

I ask the 8 ball

But it says fuck all

And I think that I might finally cryyyyyy

 

The saddest thing, and this I know

Is how quick I was to let you go

And now I’m here, all alone

And you’ll just clock out and go hooooooooome

 

Oooooohhhhhhhhhhh, Alissa

You don’t know how much I’ve missed ya

 

Locked here in this tiny cube

You really haven’t got a clue

How dull my life is without you

 

Oooooohhhhhhhhhhh, Alissa

You don’t know how much I’ve missed ya

 

Oooooohhhhhhhhhhh, Alissa

 

*dramatic, sad whisper*

 

Alissa…

The Legend of Zelda: The Gently Used Headset (Part the Tenth)

After a lengthy hiatus, we are back with the further adventures of Zeldissa.

Huzzah.

***

(14:43) Sam: Adventure time, come on grab your friends

(14:43) Sam: We’re going to very distant lands

(14:43) Sam: With Yuniss the pixie and Zeldissa the hero

(14:43) Sam: The fun will never end, adventure tiiimmmmeeeee

(14:43) Sam: (load last save? Y/N)

(14:43) Alissa: YESSSS

(14:44) Sam: (It’s been awhile, adventurer. Welcome back)

(14:50) Sam: (A quick recap of where we left off: Zeldissa had just defeated the mighty Wolfrog. She was sitting on a health bar that looked like this (0000000x) and still had some Wolfrog blood on her. She probably won’t take more than one segment of damage from it, but she has the option of washing it off with the really gross water (and potentially contracting a disease). She was in a room with a lower exit (which she came through… does that make it an entrance? what if she leaves through it too? which would it be then?), an upper exit, and something shiny glinting in the far corner)

(14:50) Sam: (what does our heroine want do to?)

(14:53) Sam: (apparently nothing)

(14:53) Alissa: SHINY

(14:57) Sam: Zeldissa promptly ignored the burning sensation on her back and slogged through the shallow, murky water toward the shiny thing in the distance.

(14:57) Sam: She felt like she’d been walking for ages, but it was really, like, 30 steps. But it was through mud and muck, which exhausted our already weakly and tired heroine.

(14:58) Sam: Zeldissa pulled out her COMPLETELY ROYALTY APPROVED communication device and Yuniss cast a tiny pink glow into the darkness.

(14:58) Sam: The corner contained…

(14:58) Sam: …

(14:58) Sam: …

(14:58) Sam: A table

(14:58) Sam: A ratty old table.

(14:58) Sam: With three legs

(14:59) Sam: Falling apart

(14:59) Sam: Honestly, a stiff breeze would knock this thing over. Thank goodness it was in a breezeless cave (though Zeldissa wondered how the crashing about of her epic battle did not finish the poor piece of furniture off)

(15:00) Sam: But atop this battered, ancient table, there lay a panoply of gems and goodies

(15:00) Sam: Shiny necklaces

(15:00) Sam: Sprangly bracelets

(15:00) Sam: Shimmerating rings

(15:01) Sam: Stacks of gold

(15:02) Sam: Shammerangy gemstones

(15:02) Sam: Socks

(15:02) Sam: Lots of socks, actually

(15:02) Sam: A weird amount of socks

(15:02) Sam: And a small wooden box, dusty from age

(15:03) Sam: Zeldissa gazed upon the treasure. A single tear glinted in her eye.

(15:05) Sam: Yuniss gasped and the light flickered.

(15:06) Sam: “Hold that steady!” Zeldissa shrieked. There was so much treasure on that unsteady table. What would she do with that much treasure? Where we she put it all? How would she get it all home? What did she even come into this cave for, anyway?

(15:09) Sam: Zeldissa stepped closer to the table. Slowly. In AWE.

(15:10) Sam: Soon, she was right at its edge. Yuniss’ light glinted off the treasure, casting tiny pinkish light freckles across Zeldissa’s slack-jawed face.

(15:10) Sam: As she took a final step and reached for the treasure…

(15:10) Sam: She felt the ground give a little under her foot and heard a loud “click” of something triggering.

(15:11) Sam: Zeldissa was a hardened adventure. Tough as nails. If the nails were made of sunshine and marshmallow.

(15:11) Sam: She grabbed the first thing she could off the table and rolled to the side just as the table, treasure, and floor dropped down into nothingness.

(15:12) Sam: Murky water poured down into the newly formed abyss. Zeldissa crept the few inches back to the edge and looked down.

(15:13) Sam: The rickety table had been impaled on a series of hideously long, rusty spikes protruding from the bottom of the pit. The water continued to drain down, treasures glinting from below the grisly scene of the table’s demise.

(15:13) Sam: *Too close* muttered Yuniss. *We need to get out of here. This place is trying ot kill us*

(15:14) Sam: “Agreed,” Zeldissa said. She walked back across the room.

(15:14) Sam: She needed to select an exit. The lower one (which she entered from) or the upper one?

(15:14) Sam: (Well? Choose)

(15:20) Alissa: Upper

(15:21) Sam: Zeldissa had already been through the lower exit (and did not want to deal with all the philosophical musings welling in the narrator about the state of the entrance/exit), so she waltzed through the upper.

(15:23) Sam: There were three paths: Left, forward, and right.

(15:23) Sam: (Which path will yon heroine choose?)

(15:24) Alissa: Right

(15:24) Sam: Zeldissa walked along the right hand path, fumbling the treasure she snatched off the table into her bag (she would look at it later).

(15:25) Sam: She soon reached another junction… only it wasn’t a junction. Just a left turn.

(15:25) Sam: And so, she continued on to the left

(15:25) Sam: And soon, she reached another junction. A real one this time.

(15:25) Sam: (Path choices are Left, Forward, Right)

(15:26) Sam: (Please choose)

(15:26) Alissa: Right

(15:30) Sam: Zeldissa went right. Right to a t-junction.

(15:30) Sam: (Left or right?)

(15:30) Alissa: Left

(15:30) Sam: Confident, feeling alive and free and like she just survived monsters and traps (because she did), Zeldissa walked down the left hand path.

(15:31) Sam: Which led to a dead end.

(15:32) Sam: As she turned to leave, she felt the ground give a little under her foot again.

(15:32) Sam: There was another *click*, softer this time.

(15:33) Sam: “Oh, motherfu-” Zeldissa started, but she stopped mid word in order to start sprinting down the hallway.

(15:33) Sam: Because the walls were grinding inward

(15:33) Sam: At a rather alarming rate

(15:36) Sam: (We shall consult the 8-ball to determine our heroine’s fate)

(15:44) Sam: Zeldissa reached into her bag as she ran and withdrew her remaining sissy health potion.

(15:45) Sam: She lobbed it through the air. It landed on the ground in front of her. Zeldissa dove into an amazing slide. She whooshed down the corridor at phenomenal speed. On her way past the t-junction, she stuck out a hand. She snagged the wall as she past and threw herself back into the other corridor just as the whole thing sealed up behind her.

(15:48) Sam: She stood up and dusted herself off.

(15:50) Sam: (Save game? Y/N)

(15:55) Sam: (I will just assume yes)

Ginger Apocalypse 2013: Life in the Frost Lane

One year ago, tiny confectionery zombies were unleashed upon the world. We last saw them ravaging a train station, where three intrepid survivors attempted to hold out against the sugary horde.

A year has passed since that fateful night. Whether the other two survivors made it or not remains unknown, but lumberjack (jill? jane? jenny?) Sarah managed to escape the overrun station and flee into the nearby woods. She wandered for a time, living off the land, killing the occasional solo undead, before eventually stumbling upon a clearing… where a man stood, leveling a rifle at her head.

It was love at first sight. Jimmy and Sarah built a cabin in those remote northern woods, hidden from the bulk of the rampaging zombie menace. As the year went on, their love only grew, and they eventually got married.

Well, I mean, they stood in front of a snowman they built and exchanged some rings they scavenged off of the few zombies that had wandered into their home, because seriously, it’s the apocalypse and nobody is around to officiate a wedding these days.

But it was only a matter of time before their peaceful existence was shattered by the plague of sugary shamblers sweeping the world:

The horror. THE HORROR.

The horror. THE HORROR.

Sarah’s woodland paradise has erupted into a riot of blood and killer zombies. Truly, nothing is sacred in this world:

Dammit, Jimmy, I'm a lumberjill/housewife, not a doctor!

Dammit, Jimmy, I’m a lumberjill/housewife, not a doctor!

Poor Jimmy, love of Sarah’s life, has fallen at the hands of the undead masses. Torn apart by a happy little zombie right in front of Sarah, the former Northern badass collapsed into a mushy, girly, sobby wreck for a moment, clinging to the bloody bits of her former lover/husband, before grabbing a knife and promptly beheading the zombie that did her love in.

But there are too many zombies for Sarah to handle, and her neighbor, Carl (who had been out fishing), has been slaughtered and left on the lake’s shore:

Carl was always kind of weird, but he brought the couple meat every few days, so they tolerated his presence in their love glen.

Carl was always kind of weird, but he brought the couple meat every few days, so they tolerated his presence in their love glen.

It seems that this year, the zombies aren’t just out for blood- they’re out to celebrate the holidays as well. Could these ginger bastards get any more twisted? And Sarah’s little clearing just so happens to be the perfect place to hold their undead festivities:

Yes, that's Carl's head. Poor, dead Carl. Now you are nothing more than a tacky holiday ornament.

Yes, that’s Carl’s head. Poor, dead Carl. Now you are nothing more than a tacky holiday ornament.

Thankfully, all hope is not lost for Sarah. A magnificently bearded stranger has just pulled up in his ancient pickup, a chainsaw in hand and a zombie-slaying fire in his eye:

We may not know why he is here (or why he's driving a pickup through the woods), but this stranger may be Sarah's last hope.

We may not know why he is here (or why he’s driving a pick up through the woods), but this stranger may be Sarah’s last hope.

Can Sarah and the handsome, rugged stranger hold out against the tiny monstrosities? Perhaps an aircraft will see the illuminated message Sarah placed on the roof (in the event of just such a tragedy) and rescue our heroes:

That foot's been up there awhile. Nobody can remember who it belonged to.

That foot’s been up there awhile. Nobody can remember who it belonged to. Nice bloodsicle, though.

Or maybe this is the end for Sarah and our bearded stranger. Perhaps this is where they feel the icing-covered hand of death grip their little sugar hearts.

What do you think?

The Taylor Files, Vol. 6

Sorry it’s been awhile since the last installment of our thrilling Taylor-centric saga, dear galleons. It’s not that Taylor has ceased his antics (he most assuredly has not), it’s that I have been lazy. And busy. But mostly lazy.

[Taylor gave me a message regarding his productivity for the day]

6:50 work credit hours

15 pushed TAs

1 good looking boy

[My project was moved to a new office recently, but there was no printer/scanner/copier in the building, so I had to stop at the old office before I went in to work and again at my lunch hour to pick up all our printing and do our scanning and copying. I had a lot one morning and showed up to the new office 3 minutes after the shift started… to find this on my computer]

You’re late

The eagle has landed

Air guitar nation

[Taylor is constantly trying to get me to allow him to take his shirt off in the office]

Got BBQ sauce on my shirt, need to take it off.

[While on the phone with a troublesome vendor, he slipped this over the cubicle wall]

Put me out of my misery

I quit

Taylor: “What should I go as for Halloween?”

Me: “I don’t know, Taylor.”

Taylor: “I wanna be something sexy.”

Alissa: “Be a sexy librarian.”

Me: “There you go. You have the glasses- all you need is a pencil skirt.”

Taylor: “A what?”

Me: “…A pencil skirt. The skirt all sexy librarians wear.”

Taylor: “Is that like a skirt made of pencils? Or, OH, is it like when you go to sharpen a pencil and the shavings make a skirt? Sam, go get me a giant pencil so I can make a pencil skirt.”

[When my team first heard that our project was going away and that we were going to be folded into a different department in the company, Taylor entertained a few elaborate fantasies of what he would do if he quit working here. One of those plans involved him and an older woman on our team doing a dual cabaret/burlesque act, where she would dress up as a bird and Taylor would dress as a bee. It would be both provocative AND educational, according to Taylor. To illustrate how it would work, Taylor left this on my phone later in the day]

photo_2

[For the record, this really loses something if you have never seen Taylor shaking his ass at you and saying the line on that Post-It. Truly]

[Terrence, my co-manager’s assistant, made the mistake of making a suggestion box to help boost morale. Taylor found it]

Suggestion: Make me Sam’s manager. Please advise.

I SUGGEST you do not feed gremlings [spelled just like this] after midnight.

Allow us to use work-safe and approved non-work related websites whilst on hold or when we don’t want to work.

[Taylor was having a lot of trouble determining which utility company serviced one of his addresses, so he drew me this to explain his situation]

photo_3

[One of my employees is from Michigan and was describing the Detroit tradition of burning condemned/abandoned houses on Halloween. I told Taylor he should go to Detroit- with his knowledge of foreclosures, he’d be able to point them in the direction of some good burning opportunities]

Taylor: “Sam, why would I give someone else a tip on which house to burn and let them have all the fun and enjoyment of burning it while I just sit back and watch?”

Me: “You could still be involved…”

Taylor: “That’s like saying, ‘Oh, date my girlfriend. It’s cool- I’ll still be involved.'”

[Taylor made some comment about being from Antarctica. Alissa and I rolled with it]

Me: “Oh, you’re from Antarctica? Suddenly, so many things make sense.”

Taylor: “What? HOW?”

Me: “Your obsession with schizophrenia, for one. You probably developed something similar living there all alone.”

Taylor: “I don’t have an obsession with schizophrenia. You are just schizophrenic. And so is Alissa. And Eunice.”

Me: “And it explains why you constantly are worried about making friends- you didn’t have any friends when you were all alone in Antarctica.”

Alissa: “Except the penguins!”

Taylor: “The penguins were my family – you aren’t friends with family.”

Me: “And your fear of abandonment is simply because you don’t want to be alone again.”

Taylor: “What fear of-“

Me: “Taylor, you Facebook me if I miss one day of work.” [note: this was before he got my phone number]

Taylor: “…Well, you’re supposed to be here.”

Alissa: “Were the penguins good parents?”

Taylor: “They were distant. And noisy. And I tried to teach them how to fly, but they’re dumb as shit.”

[At lunch later, Taylor was out in the smoking area, talking about writing papers in school]

Taylor: “We had to write this paper that was like a myth for why an animal was the way it was. Mine was about penguins.”

Me: *chokes on soda* “No shit?”

Taylor: *solemn nod* “Yes shit. Wait…” *realizes why I was laughing and grins*

Me: “Well, write what you know.”

Taylor: “Yeah. It was about how penguins can’t fly because hunters came and were shooting them all in the wings and they evolved flightless as a result.”

Me: “What the fuck?”

Taylor: “My teacher made me re-write it to be ‘squirt guns’ instead of regular guns. Like that makes any sense.”

Me: “So, penguins were squirted in the wings and now they can’t fly? They were trained like cats?”

Taylor: “NO SAM. Because then the principal saw it and made me re-write it AGAIN because squirt guns were still guns. I think I ended up saying lightning struck them or something stupid like that. I don’t know. They were always making me re-write my papers in school because they all contained violence.”

[we were looking for volunteers to change departments- Taylor made a pros and cons list to help him make his decision]

Pro:

-Overtime

-$1 more

-Food

-Schedule

Con:

-Little further

-Old office (ew)

-Surrounded by chumps

-THE JOB

[Taylor eventually decided to be part of the group switching departments early- but he left me this, to let me know that he was not happy and probably wouldn’t make it through training]

photo_1

[Upon going through the metric shit ton of papers Taylor left in his desk upon making the transition, I found the following]

photo

[…yes, those appear to be a tree, the state of Florida, and an apple smoking. Why? I couldn’t tell you]

For those of you who are concerned, while Taylor may not be my direct report any longer… he did acquire my cell number before he left, and he’s been abusing that readily enough for the week he’s been gone. Trust me- there will be further installments of the Taylor Files.

The Taylor Files, Vol. 5

In what has become the only consistent thing I post on my blog (because nothing I write can top it), today we continue our weekly series of the exploits of my favorite employee, Taylor.

Cautian [spelled just like this] Benson [another employee in my department] has an imposter walking around.

-He must be apprehended.

[Taylor was having trouble transferring service on a property, so he turns to me, frustrated]

“Sam, they said I can’t transfer service on this property… because it’s haunted.”

[Taylor told me he had completed all his work. Because I can see his property queue, I know he is lying. I tell him I require proof of this claim because I take nothing on faith. So, five minutes later, he hands me a very official sticky note document]

Proof that I, Taylor A. Benitez, have completed all my work.

P.S. About that raise…

“Look at that windshield. Is that bird shit? [I look over- there is, indeed, a massive streak of bird shit on someone’s windshield] Are they feeding the birds Taco Bell now?”

[Taylor was telling me about how he blew the dust out of his home computer and it all flew into his face]

“My face just attracts all these things I don’t want touching it. Like dodgeballs. Or any kind of balls.”

Complaint @Eunice

She’s confusing

Suggestion

Need a petting zoo

[Taylor lost his glasses about three weeks after I started working at this company. According to him, his father was the last one to see them… in the road. Taylor finally went to Walmart and ordered new glasses. At lunch, he looked at his phone and saw he had a message]

“Hey, I got a call from Walmart! 9-in-10 chance I have glasses. 1-in-10 chance they were stolen.”

“I want to be the morale guy. I’ll just wave a flag around and make people happy. It will be the flag of the original 13 colonies.”

Christine made me eat soap

[one of Taylor’s property addresses was a very rural county road, but when he contacted a utility vendor, they told him that county road wasn’t rural- Taylor looked it up on Google Maps to prove them wrong]

“I looked at that county road- there’s nothing there but trees and misery. And the trees aren’t even alive! Nothing can survive in the Texas tundra, Sam.”

[I had to call Kevin, Taylor’s buddy who quit last week after he got a better job elsewhere, to tell him his final check had come in- while I was on the phone, Taylor slid this across my desk]

Tell him I said hi

Taylor: “I’m gonna start doing yoga.” [proceeds to stretch awkwardly and puff his chest out]

Me: “…That’s not yoga, Taylor.”

Taylor: “Whatever. It feels AMAZING.”

[Because we are a call center and we bill our clients based on the number of hours our agents are actually working, we have to have them hit certain buttons on their phones to denote what they are doing if they aren’t available to make phone calls. This is called ‘auxing’ (for example, Aux 1 is break and Aux 2 mean lunch). Taylor does not like the auxing policy and was complaining about it. I told him he had to follow it and always aux out when he got out of his chair. The next time he auxed, he dropped this on my desk as he walked away]

100_7380

[One day, Taylor and I went outside to the smoking area for lunch, and a pack of cigarettes was just lying on the table, abandoned. They are the same brand Taylor smokes, so I told him to take them.]

“Sam, I’m trying to quit smoking. [he’s been “trying to quit” the entire time I’ve worked with him, and doesn’t seem to be trying very hard] I can’t take these. I already smoke everything. Cigarettes. Meth. Acid. Don’t ask me how I smoke acid. …I put all the tablets in an empty cigarette cartridge and smoke it. That’s how.”

[I pointed out that his pack was almost empty, however, and the abandoned pack was full. It would save him from having to buy more cigarettes]

“Sam, mine are 100s. These are 4 100s. That’s, like, 400.”

[Eventually, the homeless dude who wanders through our break area and picks up half smoked butts comes by. Taylor gives the man the cigarettes, and I tell him that was really nice of him]

“Not really. I took someone else’s stuff and gave it to that guy. *beat* Oh my god, Sam, I’m Robin Hood.”

[And finally, what may be the best sticky note Taylor’s ever given me. He once joked that Cliff, the big boss (re: my boss) would come out of his office if Taylor wasn’t working and “body slam him into termination.” The other morning, Taylor asked me what a good adjective was that could proceed the word ‘cliff’. He eventually settled on ‘jagged.’ According to Taylor, that is Cliff’s wrestler name- The Jagged Cliff. He later drew me this amazing comic about The Jagged Cliff]

100_7379