Thursday, April 17, 2008
I'm good for two posts a year. Here' s number three
I carry a man bag.
I don’t think that makes me sexually suspect, only emasculate. I take some small solace by telling myself I need something to carry my Jethro Bodine size lunch. Some days I feel better but not many. It is with envy I look at those company men that arrive at work with nothing more than a brown bag and a copy of the Post tucked under their arm.
However, I am not the worst case of office male feminization.
I just got off the elevator. The luggage per person ratio ticked at 3 to 1. Average size of attaché/man bag/suitcase with rollers: 1 cubic yard.
My question is: What the hell is everyone bringing to work? I have a few ideas:
1.) Homework: Man, if this is the case, the average office monkey is working way, way, way too hard, and by extension, not very smart.
2.) Lunch: Laugh if you want, but the denizens of my office are rated by the National Traffic Safety Board as “moving fire hazards.”
3.) Reading Material: It makes sense only if you attend our insufferably long and meaningless meetings.
4.) Status: Some days I think these jokers want to obstruct normal office foot traffic with their “carry ons” because they want the typical passer by to notice how important and essential they are to the operation. As evidence, I cite this preternaturally pretensious preening from a poseur: “You know, Samsonite is the new Rolex.” These dudes have nothing in their bags; they suffer from low self esteem and a need to be loved. I usually give them a hug before they get off the elevator.
Now that I have given some vent to my spleen, I was wondering if anyone wants to purchase my 10 year old Kenneth Cole. It is a little ragged but it needs a good home.
I’ll even clean the cookie crumbs out for you. ¶ 8:38 AM
I don’t think that makes me sexually suspect, only emasculate. I take some small solace by telling myself I need something to carry my Jethro Bodine size lunch. Some days I feel better but not many. It is with envy I look at those company men that arrive at work with nothing more than a brown bag and a copy of the Post tucked under their arm.
However, I am not the worst case of office male feminization.
I just got off the elevator. The luggage per person ratio ticked at 3 to 1. Average size of attaché/man bag/suitcase with rollers: 1 cubic yard.
My question is: What the hell is everyone bringing to work? I have a few ideas:
1.) Homework: Man, if this is the case, the average office monkey is working way, way, way too hard, and by extension, not very smart.
2.) Lunch: Laugh if you want, but the denizens of my office are rated by the National Traffic Safety Board as “moving fire hazards.”
3.) Reading Material: It makes sense only if you attend our insufferably long and meaningless meetings.
4.) Status: Some days I think these jokers want to obstruct normal office foot traffic with their “carry ons” because they want the typical passer by to notice how important and essential they are to the operation. As evidence, I cite this preternaturally pretensious preening from a poseur: “You know, Samsonite is the new Rolex.” These dudes have nothing in their bags; they suffer from low self esteem and a need to be loved. I usually give them a hug before they get off the elevator.
Now that I have given some vent to my spleen, I was wondering if anyone wants to purchase my 10 year old Kenneth Cole. It is a little ragged but it needs a good home.
I’ll even clean the cookie crumbs out for you. ¶ 8:38 AM
