Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Karma is a Punk-Ass Bitch, as told to me by the DNB.

"I was mad at you yesterday, so I took the little container of chili you prepared for your lunch. I was like, "I'm mad, I'm taking her chili." I put a spoonful of sour cream in there and packed it up. And all day I felt no remorse, and instead was very excited to eat my chili for lunch.

When it was finally Chili Time (not to be confused with Business Time), I could not WAIT to eat it. I put it in the microwave, and even my Boss-Doctor commented on how good it smelled. I took it out, stirred in the sour cream, and took a big ol' bite. 

IT WAS FUCKING GRAVY! 

I took GRAVY for lunch! The gravy for the pot roast was in the same type of container as your chili, and ohmygod I packed the gravy." 

"AHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA," I interject. "Because I leave earlier than you, and I had already taken the chili." 

"I actually took a few bites because I was thinking, well, maybe this gravy will be so good that I'll actually want to eat it for lunch instead of chili. But it wasn't. So I all looked around and nonchalantly put the top back on the container and slid it into my bag. 

'Finished already?' my Boss-Doctor asked. 

I didn't want to admit that my delicious lunch was actually gravy, so I just replied, 'Yeah, it wasn't really what I expected.'" 

"AHAHAHAHAHAHA," I continue. "See kids? This is what happens to people who try to be jerks: they end up with gravy on their face!"

"I know, totally. Finally, by the end of the afternoon, I had to fess up to my Boss-Doctor, and for the rest of the afternoon, he made gravy references. One of the other docs was like, 'I'd love to go up on the roof and drink some beer right now,' and my Boss-Doctor was all, 'Yeah, and eat a big bowl of GRAVY.'" 

It's at this point in his story that I'm totally planning the title of my blog post about this. 

"And at the end of the day, my Boss-Doctor's parting words were, 'This is going on the blog.'"

Sprite shoots out my nose, and I dissolve into the kind of giggles that makes you too weak to stand, and I'm holding onto the counter for support. 

"I didn't even embellish this story ONE BIT as I told it to you because it's bad enough as it actually happened," the DNB concludes. 

All I can do is nod as I gasp for air. The Buds eye the kitchen floor, searching for more Snot-Sprite.

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