Random Esquire

1. My sore neck continues. Shim saw me and noticed that I turned to face him a bit like Frankenstein and he said, calling down the hallway, “Oh, have ya got a stiff one?” Meaning, of course, my neck. But I froze in my spot and looked at him until he realized what he said before he then whispered, “Ohhhh, I didn’t realize how that sounded.”

Fresh Express also noticed my less than fluid movements and expressed her great sympathy for me, topping it off with a generous offer to rub my neck and shoulder. Second time today that I froze in my tracks. I told her thank you for her kindness and I would let her know if I needed a rub down.

2. Kennedy and I share an office wall. One day, after I’d been on a long conference call, he asked me about one of our co-workers who was on the call – a co-worker neither of us had met, actually. Kennedy could hear his voice on the speaker phone through the wall. Kennedy said, “He sounds…hmmm…I can’t put my finger on it….he sounds black.” I stared at him and said, “You are seriously the stupidest person I know.” He grinned. I said, “He sounds black?” Kennedy nodded. I started laughing and said, “He doesn’t sound black! He sounds gay!” He said, “Noooo, really?” I said, “Yes.” We asked Instigator, who works with said co-worker, and she confirmed that he was a gay, white male. I told Kennedy that his gaydar needed work. A few days later, he came into my office and whispered, “I think….I think the guys who work at our Starbucks….well, are they….black?”

Interestingly, Shim thinks Kennedy is rather cute. If only Kennedy were black.

3. Little Filthy has taken on a whole new sense of boldness. We knew he was a kleenex junkie and that any open trash can was declared, in his eyes, fair game and open season. However, he was, for the most part, limiting his occasional intake to used tissues carelessly left someplace. (And yes, I am the guilty culprit. I don’t know why I do this but it makes Boss near certifiable.) But as of yesterday, he seems to have branched out and I walked into the living room in time to see him with his front paws on the coffee table, neck straining and delicately pulling a kleenex right out of the box with his front teeth. I yelled, “HEY!” and he immediately released the kleenex and stared at me. This dog doesn’t even have the good sense anymore to scoot his pug butt under the couch. In addition, he used to be on the catch and release system by which we’d catch him eating a kleenex and he’d immediately release it and look guilty. Not anymore. Now when he realizes he’s been caught, he grabs that kleenex in his mouth and takes off, tucking his pug butt under his back legs, eating as quickly as he can. What are we raising over here?