Thursday, June 15, 2006

My Box, My Box My Box My Box. My Lovely Lady Box

All new Rockwell employees have to go through a boring hour-long environmental, safety and health class. Attendance would probably be much higher if they told the truth about it being a soft-core porn discussion. The instructor (I can't remember her name. We're going to go with Misty. It's a good stripper/porn star name) immediately annoyed me, because she pronounced important "impor-ant." I know I don't pronounce it perfectly, but impor-nt is better than impor-ant. It's like buh-ann vs. butt'n or mih-ann vs. mitt'n. I bet she says "buh-enn." We can never be friends.
Anyway, when Misty was telling us how important it is to re-use and recycle, she held up what looked like a box that business cards would come in. She explained that the box had probably been around for at least 5 years. She showed us where the box had been taped and re-labeled, then said she would pass it around. Then she said, and I can't make this shit up, "That way my box can get even more use."

No one around me seemed to even notice. I looked around for someone else that looked like he/she was having trouble keeping it together, but there was no one. Misty didn't skip a beat. This wouldn't have slipped by at ESP. Is it bad that I miss my old job because my co-workers enjoyed toilet humor and sexual innuendo? I really need to grow up. Until then, I will still have to mention the fact that Misty showed a slide with the same box and said, "Hey look! My box makes a cameo in this slide!" It's bullshit that her box can just phone in a role like that and she still probably made good money from it.

Finally, near the end, when Misty was collecting the other items she had passed around (bubble wrap, little tiny baggies, lube, etc.) she asked us, "Did everyone get a chance to see my box?"

We sure did, Misty. We ALL did. And it's really nothing to be proud of.


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