Thursday, August 21, 2008

And then there was meat.

The meat story.

Guy called me at work seeking out some phone numbers and addresses. I went to a government agency's website and gave them to him (all stuff he could have done himself, which is not to say I wasn't happy to help but to signify how slight the help I gave him was).

A few days later an Admin walks in my office and tells me she has a package for me but can't open it and can she borrow my scissors? I hand them to her, she perches the package on the edge of my desk as she cuts into the the thing, starts to reach in the envelope, starts giggling (which made me look up from my oh-so-busy-and-time-consuming spreadsheet), and begins to pull out what I was certain was a ziploc bag full of black hair.

Upon further examination, which was difficult given that I'd slammed my chair (and myself) far across my office to get away from the bag of hair, we realized it was not hair but was, instead, some form of dried meat product.

My loud use of words and phrases (i.e. "what the fuck!" and "who the fuck sends shit like that in the mail?") attracted another co-worker to my office. When he realized it was a bag 'o meat, he reached his hand in, grabbed a hunk, tore into it like the savage beast (read: stupid) we all knew he was, and said "tasty" right before he walked back down the hall with the remaining hunk still clutched between his clammy, dumb hands. (Hands can be stupid - see: hands of a person who take random meat products out of unknown packages and feed them to said person's stupid mouth.)

There was a note inside that said the "meat" was homemade and thanks for helping aforementioned guy. But no notice as to what kind of meat product it was. The guy was from Arkansas and while I hate to be state-ist, who knows what they turn into edible products over there? Now I'm assuming it was a beef jerky of sorts but I have no way of knowing for sure.

Oh and did I mention that I don't eat beef? And just an fyi, although I wouldn't classify my job as dangerous, more than once my name or other people at my office's name has come up in correspondence to and from jail cells. Just saying.

Luckily the dumb co-worker didn't die. Luckily my office can't accept gifts. Luckily there's a homeless guy who hangs out right around the corner from my building. Luckily he was there, that fate meat day, and luckily he accepted my offer or dried meat product.

Long story short: grossest fucking day ever.

1 comment:

Shannon said...

OMG! Weirdest story I have ever heard in MY LIFE!