Confessions of a Genius Co-worker |
This blog is dedicated to Connie, a woman whose moments of complete stupidity pass over our shared cubicle wall like little paper airplanes of blithering ignorance. A single middle-aged accountant with cougar-ish tendencies, when Connie isn't asking how many pieces of quinoa there are in a cup or messing up our company's credit rating, she can mostly be found singing along to Lady Gaga's Bad Romance in a voice just loud enough to hear. From the next building. And before you ask: Names have been changed to protect the functionally useless. |
| Connie: | So have you bought all the presents for your family yet? |
| Me: | Yes, I'm sending them off today. |
| C: | You're an only child, right? |
| Me: | No, I have a brother. |
| C: | Oh yes! That's right! He's older than you, right? |
| Me: | No, he's younger. |
| C: | Oh yes! That's right! He's a lot younger than you, isn't he? |
| Me: | Not really, eighteen months. |
| C: | Oh yes! That's right! He's married, isn't he? |
| Me: | No... |
| C: | Oh yes! That's right! He's single and he's a student! |
| Me: | No, he works in web design. |
| C: | Oh yes! That's right! I remember now! |
| Me: | Connie, were you thinking of your own brother? |
| C: | Er... |
