One of my coworkers is a 40-something gal whose primary personality quirk is that she just automatically says whatever pops into her head. She’s a good-natured person (probably a saving grace, given the other), and pretty much a constant source of random hilarity.

A while back another coworker of ours was fired for stealing from the company. At the meeting where the basics of what happened were explained (basically a reading of a police report from the paper), our boss mentioned that this type of stealing frequently occurred alongside a dramatic life change. Gambling was mentioned as one such change.

Darcy immediately pops up with “oooh! I gamble!”

Our boss then reiterates that the change was the important part, that the worrisome behavior would be to start gambling.

Her next response? “Oh, I didn’t start gambling until I moved here!”

I returned to my cubicle immediately after the meeting, and as Darcy passed by she did what she normally does, which is to somehow call me her buddy. This time she decided to mix it up, though, and called me her “partner in crime”—followed a half-second later by “oh, I shouldn’t say that!”

To celebrate the Fourth we had an office barbeque for lunch. Darcy (I guess) has some cows, and she provided the hamburger for the day.

As everyone was digging in, she said “this one was George.”

A half-beat later she adds, “they’re all named George.”

Now, Darcy likes to think that she has her own parking spot. “Her” spot just happens to be the only spot both directly in front of our building and next to a shady tree. She almost always parks there, though, because she beats most everyone to work in the morning.

“Her” spot was open when I arrived at work yesterday, as she was running some errands during her break. Being me, I thought I’m going to have some fun today! and took the spot. I kinda have a history of doing that.

Every time I do this, Darcy gets pissy for the remainder of the day. She’ll gripe constantly to everyone around her, and will give me the stink-eye or shake her fist at me every time we cross paths. Yesterday was no different in that regard.

What was different was today’s impending barbeque. Later yesterday afternoon, Darcy asked me if I would be attending, so she would know how much meat to bring. I declined, noting that after today, you’re probably going to poison my meal. The idea hadn’t occurred to Darcy, but it tickled her fancy… and after that she insisted that she was going to bring me a burger.

Today at lunchtime I was informed that my burger is ready! I dragged my heels a bit, but eventually accepted my fate and went to find out what my burger was about.

My burger was a regular patty with two halves of a pimento olive jammed into the top—two sickly green and red eyes staring at me. Darcy sees me looking at my burger and then at her, and then makes the I’m watching you gesture. No words are spoken.

I’d later have to explain my burger to other coworkers, and I summarized it as basically the modern equivalent of a horse head in my bed.


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