April 20, 2010

The End of Days

From an unnamed production office for an undisclosed television show in an address-withheld building in LA where the elevators are shockingly slow...

While S's coworkers made good- though comically amateur- use of a fart machine in her office, I recently learned that when I leave my office at night, my office mates make the same noises sans machine.  Yes- They sit around all day waiting for me to leave so that they can fart out loud in our office.  Also yes- They are all boys.  I learned about their torturously delayed gratification when we were all here late a few nights ago, one of them farted, and then said not excuse me, but, "We usually wait until you go home."  What a long wait that must be.  And what fear I live in now that I might once again find myself here late enough into the evening that the witching (farting) hour will be upon me.  And what a valid excuse to always be the first one to go home.  Good night.

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