February 08, 2005
I Work With Freaks
Okay, I bring a different Barbie to work every week. It's just not fair to leave her where no one can admire her! ("And she's calling them freaks?!" Yes, very clever of you to point that out. Shaddap.)
This week, it's my beloved, newly-acquired Hard Rock Barbie. Last week, it was my exquisitely beautiful Delphine Silkstone Barbie.
Only now, Delphine Barbie is gone. There was only a note where her regal snootiness had once stood in judgement of my entire cubicle.
"We have Barbie. If you ever want to see her again, buy candy. Lots of it. Load up the jars on Toni's desk! You know what we like! Oh, and a million dollars would be a good idea, too! The Kidnappers"
[Toni sits near me and is known for the jars of candy she keeps on her desk, which I contribute to regularly... because I partake of them regularly.]
Now, I gotta admit. As much as I'm freaked about one of my most expensive Barbies going missing, that's pretty fuckin' funny. And since it's not very often that anyone pulls one over on me, I gotta admire the culprit. I also must admire his/her Word skills, as he/she has varied the fonts so as it make it resemble words cut from a newspaper. Cute!
My main suspect is Nicholle (in cahoots with Anne, possibly) because a) they're demanding candy; b) they're demanding money; c) the demand of candy came before the demand of money; and d) it's something I would have done, and very few people here are as cool as me.
My other suspect is Tom because a) he's a total buttmunch.
I sent out an e-mail to my list of about 15 possible suspects:
"I got your note, and I'm going to Target after lunch, where I will get lots and lots of candy. I hope you are treating Barbie humanely."
To which I got this reply: "If Ken wasn't such a wuss, he'd be out searching for these low-lifes."
And while he does have a point, that kind of attitude isn't going to get Barbie back, now, is it?!
So what choice did I have? I went to Target and plopped down $12.50 for various chocolate tidbits, put them on Toni's desk and sent out a follow-up email:
"I'm back from Target, and Toni has a buttload of chocolate on her desk, as per your demand. Now hand over the dame. Don't make me bring in G.I. Joe and Xena."
Which provoked another unhelpful reply: "G.I. Joe is probably too busy going down on Xena, anyway."
Nice. So this morning, I arrived to find another note, in the same style:
"You have met our demands, nice lady. Barbie will be returned to you, unharmed, in do time!"
Yes, that's right, in do time. And now I can narrow my list of suspects to the small crop of hobos I work with, for whom English is a second language.
And no, Barbie still isn't back.