Thursday, September 03, 2009

Watercooler Safety

Someone at work just scolded me for replacing the Sparkletts water bottle all by myself because she said I need to be "protecting my baby producing organs". Because apparently I am of the breed that makes a baby grow with her arms.

"Wow, look at those guns. Have you been working out?"
"Nope, just pregnant with twins. Arm twins."

I realized we were out of water and then looked around to see how many people would see me sneak away from the empty cooler, realized it was too many to get away with it, and sighed, trudging to where the spare 90 gallon jugs are kept. I need to say that the only reason I sighed was because I am not what you would call 'graceful' when it comes to aiming a full thing of water at an opening the size of a silver dollar. I tend to take a more, get-some-of-the-water-in-there-at-least-and-do-it-before-the-whole-office-comes-to-watch approach.

I grabbed the jug and then psyched myself up to get at least a third of it all over me, much in the same way sports teams psych themselves up for game time - lots of grunting and clapping and incomprehensible shouts about fucking shit up. But then I went in for the attack and everything went amazingly. Like not a single drop anywhere. Not because I'm suddenly Harry Potter (because he would just use magic to do it) but because they have a new safety valve - a new safety valve of awesome - that I'm pretty sure says "Made especially for Amy. No, not you Amy, the other one, over there. That tall one who looks like she just stepped out of a quick jaunt in a local fountain, that one" in fine print somewhere on the cap.

So, now I can change the water all by myself without getting myself and half the break room soaked, but I'm still endangering the lives of my unborn children. My born children though, they're just fine with it.

2 comments:

Carrie said...

My usual awe over your brilliant humor has been clotheslined, thrown to the ground and beaten to within an inch of its life at the thought of you working back in that office.

SAY IT ISN'T SO!

Wachamacallit said...

Oh, memories of flooding the file room and Anne yelling church appropriate curse words like “juvenile” and “bloody” and “horseradish”…