Monday, May. 08, 2006
It is so fucking hot right now!
Just spoke to Gus. Sigh.
He called me last week Tuesday while I was at one of my kid's spring concerts (where I got to see strippers-in training). Since he didn't leave a message, which he usually does, I figured it wasn't important. And since I was also in bitch mode, I decided not to call him back.
By Saturday, I caved, of course, and called. I just couldn't resist. As usual, he wasn't available and I left a message. He called tonight.
As I suspected, the call from last week wasn't important. It was something "work" related.
We chatted for about 15 minutes, just catching up, and made plans to meet up for happy hour sometime.
And that was that. Nothing more nothing less.
As usual, my heart starts pumping fast every time I speak to him. And I think of him all the time. Especially when I go places where he and I went. For instance, on Thursday, I went to that club where I had the little amnesia incident. That was also the night Gus and I had incredible sex. It was surreal being there because it was another Thursday night and the same band was playing. I had a good time, but I kept wishing I was there with him.
Yes. I know I'm pathetic.
Saturday was a pretty eventful work day. About 3 months ago, Al had a great idea for his CI class: kill a chicken, bury it, and then have the kids perform an autopsy on it.
Great idea, huh? So he aquired a chicken, had one of the kids wring it's neck, and buried it in the back of the museum. On Saturday, Al got his class together, and armed with shovel and paint masks (to aid with breathing through the smell of 3-month dead and decomposing chicken) the went to unearth it.
As they were digging, I guess they were a few inches off. They came across something that resmbled a large rock and impeded their digging. So they decided to hit it until it dislodged and moved out of the way.
Well, what they thought was a rock, was in reality a water pipe. They struck it several times with shovels until a 10 ft jet of water shot out of the ground. Then it dawned on them why the "rock" wasn't moving.
It was pandemonium. I love being the highest ranking person in our department when shit like that happens. And it always seems like shit only happens when no one else is there to deal with it.
I'm sitting at the picnic table talking to a coupleof my girls when I see Al walk over. He asks if he could speak to me privately. When he first says he hit a water pipe, I laugh because, of course, he must be kidding. But when I see the look on his face like he just shit his pants, I start to feel like I'm about to shit mine.
My first instinct was to get that water shut in the building shut off. And I knew that we needed to get in touch with the facilities manager. Lucky for us, he'd come into work that day. No one like to talk to that guy. He's like a time bomb; you never know when he's in one of his crazy moods.
I decide that the best course of action would be to contact my boss, the head of our department, first. She's a VP and she should be the one to handle this since it's a big situation. We call her and she tells Al that he needs to take the blame for all of it. She doesn't want to be involved, even though she's the one that approved the Chicken Little Project (as we had taken to calling it).
She's such a fucking bitch. She wants to be boss and get paid the big bucks, but she NEVER wants to deal with any of the problems or look like the bad person. If you're in charge, be in charge.
Al, being the guy he is, decided to talk to the facilities manager by himself. I was fully intent on doing it, since I'm his supervisor, and taking any blame necessary, but he decided that he wanted to take full responsibility for everything.
Long story short, everything turned out okay. The manager was actually in an okay mood, the water pressure in the museum never dropped, and the hole in the pipe was able to be fixed with 2 hours.
The funniest thing was that all the kids thought Al would get fired. They were looking so depressed and kept asking, "what's gonna happen? what's gonna happen?" Poor things. Of course, being the great comforters we are, Nand and I were like, "probably, but we won't know for sure till Monday." But once we saw the tears brimming in their eyes, we had to tell them we were kidding.
After that Al, Nand, and I went out for sushi to try to relax from all the exitement.
summerroll at 9:22 p.m.