Andrew Gets Desk, Offends People

It all started with a 2.5 hour round trip to Werribee to pick up my desk thanks to chapperone Claire. Having just moved to Clifto, I was getting depressed at using my computer on the floor, so much so I was whinging about it on Twitter.

On our way back from Wezza I picked up 2 6′ers of Coopers Red (the one that always make me feisty) as they somehow cost less than the Green’s at the Thirsty Camel. Fast forward an hour and we’re doing laps of Fitzroy streets rockin’ out to Lonely Island and Depeche Mode and I was having such a good time I felt like I was 14 again, sucking down 2 litres of Coke and playing Super Nintendo.

We finally head home and I begin to assemble my desk.. halfway through doing this a half consumed longneck from earlier that night manages to spill over my keyboard, the little scalliwag. I didn’t think much of it at the time. I wasn’t thinking about a whole lot, truth be told..

Desk assembled and more beer consumed, the lack of any kind of dinner is probably what caused me to start ranting about being a man in this age of feminazi bullshit (I’ve always said I’m a feminist but seriously there’s equality and then theres emasculating men.) So of course to prove my point I pulled down my pants in front of my house proclaiming “I’m a man!” – I probably could have proven the point without getting my wing wang out, but why bother beating around the proverbial bush? ..and lets be honest, any chance you get to win an argument by rocking out with your cock out must be taken advantage of.. even if the argument is mostly with yourself.

I didn’t remember going to sleep but woke up with a huge hangover, which I’m probably still recovering from. I was a lot less depressed at waking up with a desk, but that was almost written off completely by the ensuing hungover self pity.

I got up and realized quickly that I don’t have a working keyboard.. I probably whinged to myself for 10 minutes about how gay it is that I finally have a desk for my computer but I cant use it. Pay day was a few days away and I couldn’t afford to buy a new one.

I KNOW! WORK HAS A GAJILLION KEYBOARDS! One of the benefits of working in IT I guess. The company wasn’t going to miss a spare keyboard for a few days.. so I pulled on a t-shirt, a hoodie and headed in to work.

I was on call that weekend, and I got a few calls after I got into the office. I was feeling turbo seedy and for some reason overheating – probably because my body was trying to sweat out the alcohol I poisoned it with the night before – so I took off my hoodie, sat down and did some work. There was some application deployment happening that weekend that I didn’t know anything about, so some people were running around..

This guy I’d never met before came up and asked me for some help setting up something on his PC but he couldn’t do it because he needed admin rights. Being the nice guy I am, I obliged and walked over to his desk on the other side of the floor, where I saw like 2 or 3 senior managers and some business analysts all looking pensive and expectant. Then I remembered what T-shirt I was wearing.

Of course it was my trusty “Pig” Tee.. which has “FIND IT, FUCK IT, FORGET IT” in huge, bold, yellow, capital letters on the back. So I’m 3 quarters of the way there.. realizing what I’m wearing,.. I cant do a 180, they will see the tee. I cant walk out backwards, because that’d just be fucking weird and creepy. I can’t walk out like a crab, no matter how much I love Dr. Zoidberg.

So I walk up, and try to twist into the chair at hand to conceal my T-shirt as quickly as possible. I don’t think I’m getting away with it. I help the guy out.. and then, of course, the moment of truth. I stand up.. and walk back to my desk. Bold. Yellow. Capital. Letters.

My dehydrated self pitying brain is kind enough to not let the entire ramifications of what just happened sink in.. it’s letting me off easily by hitting my conscious with “Ohhhh Bad Ju Ju, Man.”

So I finish up what I’m doing, and I know I have to do something. I haul my hoodie back on, and head back over to the managers and analysts trying not to look like a complete psycho… I single out the female senior manager and I let her know that if they need anything to give me a call as a flimsy pretext to then apologise for the offensive shirt, explaining I didn’t think anyone would be at work. I walk off, and she fires out “At least we know what you do when you’re not here.”

Fucking smartass. I should have asked her what she was doing later.