The World Is Crawling With Germs.

If you will bear with me for one last post on the subject, I will shut up about the big meeting that I didn't attend. I may be on Randall Bing's sh*t list. He seems a tad put off, but maybe it is my imagination. At work today a lot of people, and I mean a lot of people, accused me of having faked my trip to the doctor yesterday, in order to weasel out of the big deal meeting. I am indignant but I understand their confusion, since I have spent months explaining that there was no chance I would ever attend another of these meetings. There is a cardinal rule in baseball that you can never show up the umpires by doing something to undermine their position or authority. It seems to me that I have done that to Randall by not attending the dopey meeting. If I was him, I would take me to task over the situation. I don't see how a guy can let the whole office think I just blew it off. It's not as if I didn't give Randall plenty of warning that I was prepared to take a stand over these meetings. I told him and his boss point blank, that I wasn't going to any more of them. I was prepared to call in sick, had this fortitious lab work not cropped up. I completely respect the right of my employer to dictate my work activities. Should someone decide that I am insubordinate and elect to can my sorry butt, I would understand it. I do reserve the right to speak up when the little people are put in harm's way to satiate the montrous ego of Mr. Big. So, I guess I don't know where this will go. Randall may choose to ignore this time, but there will be a next time. Randall has a decision to make because I've made mine. Okay, I'm done with that unless there are breaking develoments. And then, just when I think I have seen it all, a new bit of nuttiness falls into my lap like a gift. The lovely Mrs. Sneed and I went to our neighborhood bakery/cafe for dinner tonight. It was crowded and no tables were available, except one table for two along a wall, crammed between two other small tables. I don't like sitting at these tables because the peopel sitting at the adjacent tables are literally two feet away. How can I talk about them when they are right there? I looked around, hoping someone was leaving and that a better table would be suddenly available, when a woman caught my eye, or at least her antics did. She was unfolding and spreading out paper napkins, using them to cover the entire surface of the table. Next she put out three forks, a pump-style bottle of hand sanitizer, a brown bottle with an eyedropper top and a bottle of some kind pills. Our little cafe, like many of your finer eating establishments, puts the food on plates rather than directly on the table, so we have never seen the need to create a makeshift table cloth, but that's just us. Anyway, she sat down, gave the sanitizer bottle a couple of pumps and sanitized her hands. She was soon joined by her husband who, without a word, picked up the bottle and did likewise. A few minutes later a young adult woman came in sat down and also sanitized her hands. The man took some of the pills and they put the mystery drops in their drinks. It was all very odd. For a family of germaphobes, they had strange eating habits. The older man and woman had a bowl of soup that they were sharing. She was eating out of the bowl with a spoon, while he dipped bread into it. And not just dipped, but double and tripled dipped. I am not entirely sure that this trio wasn't a group of space aliens. A Third Rock From The Sun-type situation. They didn't quite blend in correctly. The man wore a polo shirt with the name of a major computer company on it and was dressed as though he he come directly from work. The older woman was dressed in black pants and tee shirt, neither of which flattered her. The dead giveaway though, was the younger woman, who was overdressed for this time and place. What made her especially odd was that she had the body of a low budget stripper (think of Anna Nicole's boob job) and the face of a Pekingese, complete with the eyes skewed to the sides of her face. Someone at mission control did incomplete research before slipping these three into human company. I always wish I could just pull up a chair and ask people just what the heck is going on. The world would be a better place if people would explain themselves to me. Merle. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgemental and cranky Tag: Daily Life Personal Finance Humor