We’re having lots of potential customers come through our office today so we’re plying them with candy, ice cream, and balloons. My argument was that this tactic would work well had the sign on our office read, “Tiny Treasures Pirate Playschool (now with more Yargh!)” or if the roof of our building was a red and white striped tent, and I shared and office with an elephant (which would be cool except for the mountains of poop. And of course I’d get the passive aggressive elephant that would poop on the floor and then ignore it as if he didn’t know where it came from so I would have to get Bozo from human resources to come down and mediate the situation. I just don’t get along with elephants in a professional working environment. What? No! Of course I’m not a pachydermist! I’m not ‘discriminating’ against him because he’s a pachyderm. I’m ‘discriminating’ him because he pooped on the floor!).
Nobody else thought balloons and ice-cream and candy were childish so everyone got a job of getting the ice-cream, getting the candy, or getting and inflating the balloons. I got stuck with balloons.
So every morning I sit in my office and blow up balloons to attract potential customers and try to get myself high off of the helium. Can helium get you high? According to Alice, it can. Nuts. I was intent on flooding my office with helium so that I talked crazy all day. I guess dying in the process wouldn’t be as funny. Well, at least not as funny as being alive and seeing someone else die that way.
