Age Before Booty

16thApr. × ’09

Craig is part of the senior management team. He’s old, round and wrinkled. Looking a lot like a snowman made from mozzarella that was left out in the sun. He refers to himself as “Old School” and I have actually witnessed him talking into his mouse once. I’d like to think he thought it was a phone, but he walks into the glass doors in the lobby with alarming regularity.

When he talks, you get the impression he hails from a time where the terms  “negroid” and “mongoloid” were in common use, and hitting your wife in the face was an accepted way of saying “I love you”. He’s a jolly type, but John Wayne Gacey’s neighbours said the same thing too.

He’s taken a shine to the new girl who has started here. Actually, I think anyone with a penis has. She’s pretty much fresh out of high school and puts on make up like it’s still a novelty. I can’t stand hanging out with her because I can’t identify with people who are still in touch with hope. Craig decided to pop his head over the partition and was asking the new girl what she did before joining the company. She politely replied that she’d only just finished school and that she’d finally turned 18 last Friday.

His response was:

 “18… that’s such a firm age

 I now get to go home early because my keyboard is broken. I’m not a tech guy, but I’m assuming it’s from the mouthful of coffee I spat into it.

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