Situation Normal. Atmosphere Breathable. Brainstem Injected. Dialogue Engaged.
Thursday, August 15, 2002


My name is Steve, and I work for a large computer company, doing office maintenance. I live in the suburbs of Chicago, my home my whole life. I'm 23.

I'll start with some profiles of former and current coworkers.

A woman named Carol is quite the character. From what I understand, Carol used to be absolutely gorgeous and sexy. When I met her, she was skinny as a toothpick, no figure, and looked like she'd spent 5 times too long at the tanning salon. She was burned and frequently had a facial rash. When I started here, 5 years ago, I always knew when Carol was in the office because her floral perfumes emanated into the environment, penetrating every nook and cranny of the building. Carol wore bright pink suitjackets, slacks, and accesorized those with green and brown paisley scarfs. She had a thick New York/Jersey/Bronx accent (I'm not sure which, but the same as the Nanny's) and she wore huge sunglasses that seemed to have animal print frames. I never looked too closely. She never ate food, but instead drank carrot blends from her little pink thermos. I think her husband was trying to feed her, and she was hiding the food in the back of her freezer. As a thank you for a task perfomed, she would bring me a McDonald's burger that had long ago been frozen and freezerburned. I think she took them out of old styrofoam containers and wrapped them in paper towels to erase the evidence of their age. Many times the task I completed for her was plugging in her computer, or flipping the power switch on the monitor. I don't understand how she actually sold computer related items, as she probably didn't have much technical knowledge beyond her beloved blender.

She left the company two years ago. I miss Carol.
5:51 PM - Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm


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