So this weekend was a new one for the Hubby and I….indoor football in Upper Marlboro.  The tickets were free.  Which should be the warning label on all well-intended nights out.  <shaking my head>  Honestly, I had no idea what I was getting myself into.  The Sister-In-Law invited us to go with her and Her Husband and His Friends.  And because she’s preggers and would probably have a slightly exaggerated emotional reaction to any kind of denial….we said yes.  We also said yes because the Hubby has been having rather serious withdrawal symptoms for Pro Football.  I’m not saying he tries to play football with me….or the Pumpkin.  I’m not saying he runs around the house in his old high school football uniform <smile>.  I’m not even saying he talks about his ridiculous fantasy football team yet.  But we do have a countdown clock….to training camp….on the refrigerator.  The first preseason game is on August 11.  And this is our year.  <sigh> 

So anyway.  This game we were invited to was at the Upper Marlboro Show Place Arena.  Which I have never been to and didn’t know existed before last Saturday night.  The Show Place Arena is on Pennsylvania Avenue….the other way on Penn Ave.  The way that goes out into the middle of nowhere…otherwise known as Prince George’s County.  It was relatively easy to get there, except of course the trip involved driving on the Capital Beltway….and because the sun was still up and hell hasn’t frozen over yet….there was traffic.  Traffic for no explicable reason.  Traffic that mysteriously goes away for no explicable reason.  The best kind of traffic.  But I was not driving….so I had no reason to complain.  HAHAHAHAHAHAHA…come on….you know me better than that!!!  Our Driver was making jokes about being pulled over for drunk driving….hahahaha….hysterical.  It might have been funny if I wasn’t in the back seat with no seatbelt on….<shhhhhhhhhhhh, don’t tell my mom>.  Trust me, I tried to find the seatbelt after he mentioned he didn’t want to get pulled over…….again.  But with no luck.  So instead of listening to what everyone else in the Incredibly Susceptible to Rollovers SUV is talking about, I am imagining the three thousand different gruesome ways I could possibly die before we get there when all of the sudden….we’re there.

The Show Place is exactly what it sounds like – a show….place.  It looks kind of small on the outside.  Parking is free.  The lot is surprisingly full…considering I don’t even know the names of the teams playing today.  We walk into the building without any problems and immediately find the bar.  The boys in the group apparently have no desire to watch this game sober….good, at least they won’t be driving home.  So we walk into the arena part of the Show Place and I am immediately struck by how tiny the field is – like 25 yards across.  I half expect the players to be equally tiny.  Like the whole game is in miniature and there are little jockeys running around with little tiny helmets and a little tiny ball….but that’s not quite how it was.  Apparently we are watching the Chesapeake Tide play the <get this> Steubenville Stampede.   Apparently these teams belong to something called the Continental Indoor Football League or the CIFL.  I am guessing you’ve never heard of this before. 

We find our seats which are in the second row of the Show Place, right next to the field.  This seemed like a very opportunistic position…at first.  Don’t let me mislead you.  The Show Place was not what I would call “full”.  We probably could have sat just about anywhere.  But our free tickets (which probably had a street value of about $30) were for some pretty good seats.  We decided to root for the Tide, since none of us know where Steubenville is….and I am still relatively convinced that it doesn’t actually exist….  The Tide were apparently playing for some kind of playoff game.  The Stampede had apparently confused this game with a practice that didn’t really count. 

The first thing I noticed…because I’m a girl….was that the Steubenville people did not have matching uniforms.  I pointed this out to the Hubby and he looked at me like I had just turned into a bowling ball shaped green alien and said in a rather sarcastic tone of voice – what the hell are you talking about?  The second thing I noticed was that the coaches and linesmen are actually standing on the field/12 square feet of Astroturf while the game is being played….which is kind of weird.  The Tide had a coach who was eerily similar to Ralph Friedgen.  In other words…he was a very large man.  He took up a lot of space.  The third thing I notice….and this is probably the most important thing….was that the sideline barriers were not affixed to the floor.  Meaning they moved.  Rather easily.  Especially when three or four fully-padded CIFL players came flying onto them.  This is when I suddenly realized in a fit of panic and fear of being crushed to death, that our second row seats were not as great an idea as I first thought. 

Half-time came much quicker than I expected….and for our half-time extravaganza show at the Show Place we were entertained by two….no three…..baton twirlers.  I am NOT kidding.  Baton.  Twirlers.  It took just about everything I had not to start giggling uncontrollably.  What Stephen King town have we stumbled into?  The boys in our group are on their third or fourth double-Crown and coke at this point and obviously do not fully appreciate the weirdness of our current situation.  The 43 other people in the Show Place Arena are also strangely unconcerned with this display….like they’ve seen it before or something.  I am feeling a strong desire to leave.  At least wait in the car.  Just in case these freaks try to brainwash me into shaking my booty to ‘Shoop’ by Salt n’ Pepa. 

But instead I am stuck in my seat for another half.  The adorable kids sitting behind me seemed to think they could make the nachos they were screaming for magically appear by breaking my seat with their violent little kicks.  Kids do the darnedest things…..here’s another thing the kids in the Show Place were doing during the entire game.  Running like little crazy elephants from one end of the arena to the other end of the arena every time a kicker tried to make an extra point.  To try and catch the ball.  Because apparently the Tide does not have to pay for their balls.  <smile>  It’s the kind of thing that helps you focus on the action of the game.  I always knew when someone scored a touchdown…..because the rumble of a thousand little feet running across the wooden bleachers would alert me. 

I began to actually root for the Tide….to just hurry up and finish the game.  To say the score was a little slanted in their favor would be insulting the concept of understatements.  The Stampede were slaughtered.  But luckily for me and my lack of exciting football to watch….the boys we were with (including the Hubby) took it upon themselves to comment very loudly on how inept the Stampede appeared to them.  And by “comment”, I mean scream loudly in a rather impolite garish way.  Remember me saying that we were close enough to the field to be concerned about the possibility of being crushed by flying football players?  And remember me saying that the barriers to the field were rather…..well…..pliable?  Yes.  This made the last ten minutes of the game very exciting.  We had several Steubenville players walk over to our seats and make strange gestures, which I immediately interpreted as threats…..but could have possibly been strategic uniform adjustments.  I think they were speaking to us….but I of course could not hear anything over the slurred jeers of my completely sloshed seat-mates.  I started scooching down the bleachers away from the group, promising in my head to visit my Hubby every day in the hospital.  The Steubenville players looked much bigger now…than they did before.  Perhaps it was just a trick of the eye, seeing them against the Twister mat-sized playing field they were on. 

Now let me tell you why I had a blast....which you may have not realized by this recap.  Picture this, if you will gentle reader.  There is about 40 seconds left in the game....and suddenly things come to a halt.  No one else is paying attention, but the Ref is talking in that horrible cheap micorphone voice that no one can really understand right away.  But here is what I understood from his sign language.  They were out of balls [come on, you know you know how to say that in sign language].  Apparently those free give-aways were going to cost them.  Apparently they do not normally do this.  So the Ref is asking all 48 of us in the Show Place if they can have a ball back.  And then....just like an after-school special, a little kid....couldn't have been more than 6 or 7, climbs down the bleachers and hands them his ball.  His ball that he ran across the Arena for, the ball he fought and scratched for.  His team needed him and he was there.  Seriously, it was that melodramatic....and I, just like everyone else, starting clapping like a big sap when this happened....and watched intently after the game to make sure the Kid got his ball back.  He did.

The game ended without anyone in our party being mauled by a peeved CIFL player.  Everyone in the Show Place seemed very excited about the Tide going to the playoffs.  I can’t even imagine where those are held…..We met a few of the players after the game and they all seemed very nice.  Some of the players had these cool mouth guards that little up like those annoying new police car flashers.  That was kind of cool.  Of course, once the game was over we had to herd the boys back to the car…..which is always an interesting experience.  Luckily no one objected to one of the ladies driving home. 

I have to admit.  As much as I complain about these things.  If Germantown had their own CIFL team….let’s call them the Germantown Germs…..the Hubby and I would probably go to every game.   As one of the boys so eloquently put it….it must be fun rooting for a team that no one else cares about.  <smile> 

It must be.

Thanks to Preggers and Her Husband for the Invite.  If the Hubby remembered any of it, I'm sure he would thank you too.

The automatic coffee maker did not go off automatically when it was supposed to.  I cannot find the shoes I want to wear.  The trash is supposed to go out.  And because of last week’s holiday we have enough recycling stored up to make Al Gore proud.  But it’s raining….and who knows if the Nazi recycling people will feel magnanimous enough today to pick up wet cardboard.  Cell phone – check.  Car keys – check.  It’s 6 a.m. on Monday morning and I am off to the biennial event that I always look forward to at least once a year.  Yes gators.  You guessed it.  It’s Office Staff Meeting day in Audit-Land.

I stop by my normal gas station and take the obligatory 5 seconds to stare at the ridiculous price of gas and sigh in a completely dramatic and exasperated way.  The newspaper selection is very thin today….apparently I got here before the delivery guy.  Now…despite any preconceived notions you may have, the Frederick News-Post has some pretty entertaining stories in it…but only in the Local section where they talk about cows and the police reports.  I have enough crossword puzzles though to make it through at least an hour or so of the upcoming day.  Good enough. 

So I’m off again.  Off to the wrong side of the Baltimore Beltway.  But eerily enough, there is no traffic and I get to the appointed location early.  Surprisingly early.  Comically early.  No problem.  I am calm.  I meditate with my newspaper and my McDonalds iced coffee to the quiet soundtrack of Battlestar Galactica.  The new one.  This is supposed to be my zen time.  My time to contemplate my patient state of mind.  When all of the sudden there is a tapping at the window.  Partybert, unbeknownst to me, has driven into the parking lot and while it seemed to be his intention to put me into hysterics with this unannounced beating on My Car….he claimed to want to see the collection of reading material I had brought with me, probably so he could steal a Sudoku.  All of the Coworkers seem to get a kick out of the fact that I bring newspapers to the Staff Meetings….probably because all of the Coworkers actually would rather talk to each other.  Huh.  Weird.  It occurred to me that My Car had a rather inordinate amount of trash in it this morning, which I’m sure did not appear overly professional to Partybert.  Ah well. 

So I head into the designated Conference Center waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too early to scope out a good seat near the door.  Convenient exit strategy.  Yes, I did learn from the last meeting.  The day started with the obligatory introduction to the Office Newbies.  Welcome Newbies.  Stand and be ogled.  Wave.  Smile.  And relax in the knowledge that I have already forgotten your names.  Now…you may remember that during the Holiday Party Staff Meeting, half of the day was devoted to our Holiday Party.  But since there are no good holidays to celebrate in June….or rather none that the State government officially recognizes…..besides the fiscal year end….half of this day has been devoted to Training.

Office-wide Training, as I am sure you are aware, usually totally sucks.  You’ve either heard it all before, or you really don’t care because it is completely irrelevant to your specific job duties.  I normally spend the entire “Training” session amazed by the fact that someone has actually agreed to waste away their life by talking at me for a few consecutive hours while I pretend to pay attention.  Even more amazing….the fact that someone willingly and knowingly agreed to pay someone to talk at me for a few consecutive hours while I pretend to pay attention.  But not today.  Today was a special presentation.  Today’s required Office-wide training split the Office into two groups – Upper Management and The Underlings.  Today required everyone to keep straight faces.  Today required undivided pretend attention.  Today was Sexual Harassment Training.  No….we were not trained on how to sexually harass people….<smile>…..I’m sure we could figure that one out, even if we are a bunch of nerdy auditors.  While being spectacularly uneventful, I did glean one interesting tidbit from the session.  You may be surprised to hear gators that if you are ever accused of sexually harassing someone, your intentions (no matter how benign or innocent) are apparently completely irrelevant.  The only thing that matters to anyone is how your actions/words/disgusting jokes are interpreted by those around you.  Huh. Weird.  So….you’re trying to tell me…..that something isn’t actually offensive….unless or until I’m offended by it?  Nooooooooooooooooooooooooo.  <please read that in a very sarcastic tone of voice…in your head….don’t read this out loud>  So the Good Samaritan who rescues the Hapless Car Crash Victim and inadvertently breaks his ribs while performing CPR can be sued?!?!?  The Mom & Pop Food Chain who gives you your cup of coffee hot, because that’s the way we normally drink it here in the States, can be sued when you stupidly spill it all over yourself?!?!?!  That’s right gators.  This is America and we are certainly not concerned with your intentions to save someone’s life, or even to nourish them, or possibly <gasp> compliment them.  If your actions have offended me, rest assured that I shall be avenged.  You will rue the day you decided on a whim to acknowledge my presence. 

And you people wonder why I don’t talk to anyone.  I guarantee someone has done a study….and I guarantee you, this is what they found – antisocial people are sued at an exponentially lower rate than the rest of stupid society. 

Allow me, gentle reader, time for a quick aside.  You may deduct from the above that I thought the Training was pointless.  I didn’t.  It simply amazes me that we must be reminded that Communication involves two people.  At least.  You’re not really communicating if you’re talking to yourself.  The act of communication involves someone getting the message, in addition to someone sending the message.  But because we are so completely obsessed with our lack of adequate amounts of time to do….well anything…..we rush through the delicate act of communication without any thought at all to the hapless Listener.  Who cares if they heard me right….at least I said it…..that’s all that matters……right?  Come on.  You know better.  I know you do.

Ok so, back to the Meeting.  Training is over and its time for Lunch.  This was very exciting, because the Meeting was held in a brand new location.  We, as an Office, had never eaten there.  I am fairly certain I can say with reasonable confidence that one or two of my coworkers have probably eaten at this particular location on an individual basis….but We have not.  So there is a buzz running through the crowd.  And since Upper Management was kind enough to send us the Directions to the Meeting Link which also coincidentally included the Price List for the Lunch Buffet on the same page…..we are all interested to weigh in on whether the spread provided comes even close to earning the $30 a person price tag.  After bumping and prodding my way through the trough….I mean buffet line….I sat down at a table by myself.  Mostly because I do not share the Coworkers fear of eating alone, and also probably because I do not particularly care for any one of them over another.  They are equally entertaining in their own ways.  So I sit down and what happens?  Inevitably, because they can sense a Comrade in my dorkiness, the Computer Guys all gravitate over to my otherwise empty table.  So, picture if you will – Weird Al to my left, Databert to my right, and Q directly across from me.  This should be an exceedingly interesting meal.  Q was surprised to hear that I’m a Wizards fan…..huh….he clearly has not read enough of this blog.  I am sorry to say that Weird Al had no dead ferret stories….so I was able to eat the roast beef without the urge to regurgitate.  Luckily I had finished eating when he came back to the table with his second plate of chocolate cheesecake accompanied by more roast beef.  Huh.  Weird. 

So it’s the afternoon.  I can feel we’re into the home stretch.  Time to break out those crossword puzzles.  First on the agenda is Award Time….aka, Bribes to Make Us Keep Working Here….aka, Delusions of Job Satisfaction.  I am extremely proud to say that I got an award.  Which of course involves me setting aside the puzzles and walking down to the stage and creeping up behind Bossbert and scaring him to death apparently with my freakishly large bowling ball-shaped head to get my framed Award which I already have plans of hanging in my office next to my Employee of the Year Award.  Um.  Oh wait…..I haven’t gotten that award.  Um.  Oh wait…..our office gives that award to the same Computer Guy every year because he writes programs and fixes our computers and basically does everything we don’t understand.  Um.  Oh wait…..I don’t even have an office.  But don’t worry.  I’ll think of somewhere real special to hang that award.  As soon as I remember to sift it out of the trash heap in my completely unprofessional Car.  <Thanks again Bossbert and don’t worry, everyone flinches like that when they see my ridiculously round head.>

So then Grumblybert gives his update of how much the Office has improved on our performance measures and what our goals are for the upcoming year and absolutely nothing he said triggered my mind to think of a six letter word for ‘salt marsh’ (which ended up being ‘tgursj’ which I am sure was right because it was the only thing that fit by the time I was done with that puzzle).  After Grumblybert, Mr. Congeniality was up next.  He told a lot of funny jokes and stories which no one in our Office laughed at because they suck the sense of humor out of you when they hand you your Bachelors Degree in Accounting.  I, however, completely appreciated his comedy and smiled a lot during his presentation to prove it.  After Bossbert, the Paranoid IT DirectorMan gave his presentation beginning with the PowerPoint slide – “What keeps me up at night”….no joke.  Paranoid IT DirectorMan has come up with even more steps to secure our flash drives, apparently dismissing my suggestion that we swallow them whole and train our bodies to poop them out whenever they are required.  He also stunned me into silence by asking a trivia question about the Lord of the Rings movies.  Huh.  Weird.

So it’s the Last Break of the Day.  As any of you who work in a similar environment can appreciate, notification of the LBOD successfully diffuses your brain’s ability to fire any more neurons for the day.  Because as soon as the LBOD begins, all anybody can think about is  - theendisneartheendisneartheendisneartheendisnear…  Because I failed to complete an evaluation form, I hope one of you gators will pass this on – please don’t serve snackypoos for the LBOD in those crinkly little bags that make sooooooooooooo much noise while all of the Coworkers are rattling their grubby little fingers around looking for the last morsel of potato chip painfully reminding me that all such luxuries of Life have been forboden in my own private hell of healthy living.  Just a simple request.  So during the fourth quarter, we had a few more Bert presentations, including a cameo by The Drone.  The Drone is a superhero whose superhero powers include boring the evil genius super-villains of the world to death with his unbelievably monotonous recitation of the results of all 372 audits that the Office conducted during the past five years.  And just when I thought I may have to pull the emergency latch on my fold-up auditorium seat…..the day was mercifully over.

Oh.  Oh sorry.  Did I say ‘over’?  You see, that is what the Coworkers always think.  She leaves work so early…it must be nice being done with the day so early.  <chuckle chuckle>  Silly Coworkers never take into account the drudgingly and excruciatingly slow commute back to loverly Germantown.  And since some genius decided that the new site of this year’s Mid-Year Staff Meeting would be held on the dark side of the Baltimore Beltway….I am dreading this.  DREAD.  But for some reason…like this morning….there is eerily little traffic.  Huh.  Weird.  And then the lightening starts.  And the lightening brings the rain.  And that’s when it all goes to hell.  You see, there’s this weird phenomenon that happens with rain.  People are afraid of rain.  They fear it.   And they don’t know how to drive.  Fear.  And being afraid of the rain is just stupid.  Fear and Stupidity.  Stupidity and Fear.  This is what my commute is every day.

But.  Being afraid of lightening is perfectly understandable.  Because I am 100% certain that I will be fried into a burnt up little bowling ball some day.  Mock me if you must.  But when it happens, who’ll be laughing then?  Lightening kills and this irrefutable fact has frozen my normally cat-like reflexes so that I am now driving even worse than normal.  I did manage to make it home.  Which I really shouldn’t have to tell you….but whatever.  I walked in the door and there she was – the Pumpkin sitting on the steps staring at me with her best “I’m starving to death you heartless bitch” look on her face.  The smell of burnt coffee is wafting through the house, because apparently the automatic coffee maker automatically turned on sometime after I left the house.  I tripped over the shoes I was looking for as I poured myself a very stiff drink.  I don’t know if I have adequately described this experience to you gators, but the Office Staff Meeting Day is quite akin to the dentist.  Twice a year.  But it feels like you were just there yesterday and it can never be over fast enough….

Later,

Heather

p.s. – No.  You are not hallucinating.  The blog is a different color.  If you don’t like it….I don’t care.  If the color green makes you nauseous….I don’t care.  If the print is too small……I don’t care.   If you get a crink in your neck tilting your head to the side to read the italics…..well…..I do care because that is probably the dumbest thing I have ever heard.  <smile>  Seriously though.  No feedback.  If you don’t like it, write your own blog and post it on your own site and make it whatever f^&$%ing color you want.