S Needs Further Clarification on How to Exit the Building.

Please be a bit more specific, Special K. I'm no psychic.

To all Staff:

This is to alert you that the lock on the back door (the door that leads out to the parking lost in the back of the building) has been replaced – and works fine. Enrering and exiting the building from the regular back door should not be a problem. You no longer need to use the middle warehouse doors (the double doors located in the back of the warehouse) when leaving the building. Just use the regular back door when entering or exiting this building. Please let me know if you have any questionas or concerns. Thank you.

Special K.

(And after all this time, I still wonder why "the back door is fixed" wouldn't suffice...)

What can brown do for you, you ask?

Although we get really wrapped up in the weirdness that is Special K, we have some other odd characters around here. MACK has been mentioned before. But there's also a rather creepy UPS dude who totally has the hots for our sweet little intern, A. I allowed her to guest blog here about him--partially because she has just been hired on as my assistant. It's only right that we all share the crazy around here.

Well let me first say that it’s an honor to be guest posting here on TheDailyFaxEmailBlog. The cult following is growing.

My story begins as I am diligently working here in Crazyland as the resident gopher (aka intern). You can call me A. M and I work on the bottom floor, the only two employees down here, condemned to work next to the cold and blustery warehouse. We also have the annoying job of having to answer the front and back doors when any visitors ring (of which there is a weird assortment every day), even though there is a buzzer system. For some reason K, and the outsiders sometimes, cannot seem to figure this out because we still have to open the doors while she runs down the stairs (I don’t want to be there the day she falls down them… ouch). The added luxury of having a video surveillance monitor on her desk must be too mind-boggling. Any who, it is on one of these trips that I let in the Usually un-Pleasant Suspect (Mr. UPS) and receive, along with a package, some creepy vibes. It begins with “the look,” accompanied with a smile too eerie for words, and is usually followed by some scheme to find out my name. This time he straight out asked for my FIRST name (I know how deliveries work and its last names you ask for) and hopefully just pretended to punch it into his little scanner machine. Yuck. Then on the way out he playfully asks me if people call me by A___ (nickname), to which I responded with a blank “sometimes.” Double yuck. Just the most recent chapter in my soap opera affair with the UPS guy. Another time, he told me he liked girls with curly hair (guilty as charged). He then proceeded to tell me a long story about… I don’t really know what, I tuned out. But since then, I do not regret waking up an extra hour early to straighten my hair. Maybe if I’m lucky, the next time he comes we’ll have a nickname connection!

I am also the recipient of a brand spanking new 6-month contract here in Crazyland. Thanks for the warning M, S, and L!

Can I just say it's so cute to watch her cringe as he gets all googly-eyed and smiles at her, and Special K flits down the stairs to see who the f*@k she just let in the door?

Knock-knock. Who's there? Me. Knock-knock. Who's there? Me. Knock-knock...

I frequently use my designated lunch hour to get some exercise. We are lucky to have a access to a decent running trail here at Crazyland, so I like to get out and get some fresh air, and if I'm lucky, forget the screwy work load I'll be returning to. It's a bit cumbersome to take my key fob with me -- I'm clumsy, and I'm apt to lose it -- so for the past few months I have been ringing our buzzer and waiting for Special K to buzz me in. I can see how this might be an imposition for her. After all, she could be busy responding to dinner invitations (see previous post) or taking medication (diddo), so who am I to take time out of her busy schedule with such an arduous task? It seems way better than constantly losing and replacing my key fob, so I burden poor K with this job a few times a week. I have yet to ask her how she feels about this.

Anyway, the very first time I enacted this procedure (out of necessity, actually -- I had forgotten my key fob), I buzzed, was let in, and then met by K speeding down the stairs, hand over her palpitating heart, spewing something about "not knowing who I was." Fair enough. I'm sure the view from the security cameras doesn't give you an accurate picture of my cute mug, so it was probably a good precaution to confirm my identity. I nodded my understanding (remember: always nod) and went about my business.

It probably doesn't surprise you that this happens EVERY SINGLE TIME I go running. Without fail, I buzz, am let in (sometimes I even have to buzz twice) and am met by Special K, always with the hand over the heart, always with the look of grave concern about who she may have just let in to our ultra-secure environment. I usually say something along the lines of "oh, just me!" or "ooops, sorry to scare you!" Lately, I've become more assertive and have asked, "didn't you see it was just me, K?" or the kinder, "oh, just little ol' me....same as yesterday."

It's not that I doubt the thief-dressed-as-runner-scenario -- I'm sure it's happened more than once in this world. It's just that idea that it might happen every single day, by the same woman (who waves, joyfully to the camera to facilitate her identification), at the exact same time. I mean really.