|
The kind of people
who work at Greenpeace have led lives that would either become
bestsellers or make grown men cry. It’s really not a question of
whether or not my co-workers are more interesting than yours; it’s
really more of a question of how much more interesting they are. In
one six-hour shift I age a year, partly due to the difficulty of the
task, and partly due to the mind-numbing (literally) amounts of
methamphetamines I’m forced to take, produced locally in my boss’s
bathtub.
Sure, the average person is working in an air-conditioned office where
they’re allowed to sit for more than fifteen minutes at a time and not at any
given point sweating from their ass, but I’m talking to the lost children of
Chicago. Indie hipsters, Hispanic mothers wearing spandex so tight you can count
how many eggs they have left in those legendary ovaries of theirs, the drug
addicts, the homeless, and the guy who pisses his pants while trying to sign up
with you. Have you ever met anyone on the run from the law? Have you ever had
two drunken girls at 2:30 in the afternoon compliment you on your physique? Have
you ever gone on a three-day bender with nothing but thirty-five cents and a
dream?
The people who can handle this job are the people you do not want to fuck
with.
Case in point (first time that joke’s been made on this site), my bosses.
Kate
is a bubbly, wildly energetic woman who has told me on more than one occasion
that she would ruin me if I were to take her to bed. Sure, she’s a decade older
than me, but the fact that she vividly remembers the 80’s gives me an erection.
So can a stiff breeze or a 10-year-old boy sitting next to me on the bus, but
the fact that she remembers Jellies and made it through a decade of bad music,
clothes, and food really makes me ache. But the doctors promised the medication
would ease that particular problem.
Adam
grew up in Dayton, Ohio, which brings to mind farm animals and one-toothed
prospectors fucking those same animals, but is actually well known for its
straightedge population. Adam was part of the original Courage Crew, a group of
individuals who didn’t drink, smoke, or take drugs—which really makes you wonder
if there’s something more to life than coasting on a chemical high for much of
your waking hours. Right, there are hookers too.
Adam is not the Office Space boss. Adam is the man who pointed to his
wildly attractive female employee’s rubber ducky underwear while she was bent
over, grabbed me, and started mumbling, “That’s not fair. There is no God.” The
man who frequently professes his hate for minorities and fires me on a daily
basis for being one. He once grabbed Kate’s right breast, then shook himself and
asked, “What happened?
I blacked out.”
If possible, the employees themselves are even more fun than my bosses.
Red
is called such because of his rust-colored beard, all that more
improbable because his hair is brown. I’ve been told it maintains
its healthy color because he dyes it in the blood of innocents every
morning. Red is quiet until he gets frustrated, which is every ten
minutes or so. This leads him to do things like going toe-to-toe
with an enraged black woman after calling her selfish, drinking
while on duty (explicitly not allowed), and telling random strangers
he loves them.
Suzi
is a bitter, angry drunk of a woman who I’ve got the biggest crush
on. One random day I told her, “Suzi, I’ve got a secret for you.”
She looked at me and shouted, “If it’s your penis, I’m going to kill you.”
That pretty much sums up everything you need to know about me or her.
Jay
is the most depraved individual I’ve ever met, and believe me when I
say he’s done things that are illegal in most states and is always lying when he
says he loves you. He invented his own sexual maneuver, which is like calling a
tiger a big cat, because “sexual maneuver” is too tame of a description for “The
Pirate’s Plank.” Just days ago, Jay informed me about an accomplishment so vile
I needed proof. He immediately called the girl in question, for a conversation
I’ll never forget. The phone conversation, verbatim:
Me: Is it true, what Jay did to you?
Her: If I’m going to answer, you’re going to have to say it out loud.
*Me, shuddering from the rush of blood to my groin*
Me: Is it true that he…
anally fisted you, and when he
turned it around inside, you came?
Her: Yes.
Me: I’m in love. Get this fucking phone away from me. I need a cigarette and
a shower.
And me? Well I’m interesting by default—I once told a woman, “Look me in the
eyes and tell me you don’t find me attractive.” To her credit, she replied, “I’m
already a member of Greenpeace… and you are cute.” I also got drunk one night
and hit on Kate until she handed me the official policy manual, open to the page
on sexual harassment. And one time I got a blowjob in the storeroom of the
office.
Welcome to our organization.
Only the completely fucking crazy survive.
|
Share this article
|
