You gotta be fucking kidding me

6:15am

That's when I crawled in bed. Oh wait, scratch that, it wasn't bed. The last time I slept in a bed was at my parent's house two weeks ago. No, 6:15 is when I went into my old office where no one works and curled up with a couch pillow and comforter on the floor.

I had been up all night working on a project that was due yesterday (admittedly catching up on movies I hadn't seen yet at the same time) and I didn't actually feel comfortable with my progress on the project until that point. You see, the assignment came in and I was like, "Herp Derp, hey, if you need help, I can help out."



It was one of those things you say but then you're thinking to myself, there's no fucking way I actually have time for this. Like if you stop to hold a door open for someone and they're taking their sweet time on the sidewalk and you're thinking, "GO, you fucking lunatic! I don't have time for this shit! I'm going to slam this door in your face when you get here if you don't hurry the fuck up!"

Anyway, of course the project makes its way back to me. Long story short it was good experience, but there was no fucking way I should have taken the project. So I wake up in the morning, completely exhausted and crawl out of the office with my hair matted on one side and little sleep flakes all over my damn eyelids and I'm like... fuck this day. Already I can tell it's going to be one of those fucking days.

At about 11:30, I'm down a cup of coffee, a pepsi, another nap on my bed-floor-place, and I'm still alive. I'm just 20 minutes shy of finishing the project, when from nowhere, the project manager is behind me handing me a pack of gum. Thanks? I'm sure that since I didn't go home last night, my hygiene isn't as stellar as it could be, but I've still got to be better than some of the part-time staff. I mean, you could just give me a piece of gum, and I'd be happier.

"I brought you a present," she says. Yeah, I got that.

"It's a present because you're either going to be happy, or not happy about what I have to tell you." Well if you're here to tell me that you can smell my breath from 50 feet away I'd say this is a make you feel shitty inside present.



"The project got cancelled. We weren't able to retain it based solely on the parsing portion."

Oh fuck you me.

At first I was like... Ok. 'Cause shit happens, ya know? It happens to me all the fucking time to be exact. And she certainly didn't have to give me a pack of gum, which I know she had bought for herself. Then a few minutes went by and I was more like... lajsdfl;jkasdl;kfjaiodsjfajkdsfl;aijdspo;fjald;skjffuuuuuuuuuuUUUUUUUUUUUUUU. Day can't get any worse, right? Spent all night working on a project that got cancelled just 20 minutes before completion. I'm exhausted and have to spend the rest of the day training so there's no way I can slip out early. The day is pretty well in the shitter.

So an hour goes by and a couple of cops show up. At first, that was fine with the majority of the staff. It's become an almost bi-weekly occurrence to have one or two of Overland Park's finest show up to investigate a 911 hang-up. We have a phone center here and those little pricks dial 911 and then just hang up and don't say shit to anyone about it all the damn time. I even went as far as to change the code to get an outside dial-tone from 9 to 8 to prevent accidental 911 calls. Think that helped? Fuck no. These little fuckers probably wait until they think the OP cops have forgotten what I look like and call them just so they can come out and talk.

Well, it wasn't long before the two officers were standing outside talking. Then two officers turned into four, then the four turned into a eight with several cars. I immediately start looking for downloaded movies I might have laying around to delete. They're all gathering outside and eventually they come in and ask to speak to the facility manager and they all go into my boss's office and have a little pow-wow. 10 minutes go by and then the facility manager comes out and points at me and does that come hither finger gesture. Meanwhile I'm thinking, oh fuck oh shit oh fuck oh shit oh fuck oh shit oh fuck.

He gets me aside and says, "Apparently there's been a threat on the building."

OH FUCK OH SHIT OH FUCK OH SHIT OH FUCK OH SHIT

So, yeah, some fuckwad called in from a pay phone at a gas station in KC, MO and told the police that they needed to get over to our building because a bunch of people were going to get hurt. Ok, yeah, thanks but no thanks. I wanted to get the fuck out of Dodge. Instead, the manager told me he wanted me to go with an officer and search the building for anything out of place, such as, oh let's just say, a fucking bomb.

Do I seem like the kind of person you want to send in search of something "out of place?" Sure I know the building well enough to notice something like that. Hell, I even stayed the night, but the cold floor is no Holiday-fucking-Inn, so you'll excuse me if I don't exactly feel like my senses as sharp as a tack.

The manager takes the upstairs and I go with an officer downstairs. We're looking in every single door, every cabinet, and the only thing I can think about is that I'm probably unlucky enough to find a fucking bomb somewhere, and it'll be booby-trapped or some shit and I'll be the damn asshole that triggers it in a nervous, sleepless bomb-searching frenzy.

You know what though? Fuck those cops. If they thought there was the possibility of a bomb, wouldn't it have been nice if they had brought the dogs?... Or a squad for that type of thing? Jeez, if only such a thing existed. Oh fucking yeah, they have that. It's called the fucking bomb squad, so where the fuck is it? More to the point, why are we searching for a bomb? From what I heard, that was just one possibility. I was actually more afraid of some crazy mother fuckers showing up with guns than I was of someone getting in and leaving a bomb somewhere. Any crazy fuck can get a gun these days it seems, judging from the current state of my neighborhood. We got done checking downstairs and everyone is standing outside, and we call the big boss, who's on vacation. After a quick briefing of the situation, he decides that we can just resume work as normal.

Wait.


No?

Please, no? For the love of all that is holy... no? How about just this once, since someone called in a threat, we just, ya know. Not ignore it and go back to work? I mean, yes, it was very probably some irate dickhead who didn't qualify for a project, or perhaps even a disgruntled employee, but why in the fuck should we just continue as usual? Shouldn't there be some kind of stake-out or something? ISN'T ANYONE GOING TO GIVE A FUCK?

Turns out no, not really. It took about 15 minutes before I finally walked by the HR rep and said that I was going to change the security codes. Oh gee, Mike, good idea. Why didn't anyone else think of that? Well? Why the fuck didn't they? I'm going back to school in less than two months and I always wonder how they're going to get along without me. After this, I'm pretty fucking sure I can't wait to get the hell out of here. I actually left work at 5 that day, right on the dot. I left my job in Overland Park and drove straight to my apartment in the ghetto to be safe. Explain that one to me, mother fuckers. Explain that.