Friday, June 15, 2007

Identity crisis

At an employee lunch yesterday, the big boss went through a PowerPoint with pictures of all of us and introduced us. I leaned over to a colleague whom I communicate with often over e-mail.

"Let's see if he gets my name right," I muttered.

Sure enough, he did not. More disturbing was my colleague's reaction. She looked at me and said, "He got it right!"

On the drive down, I noticed that one of my officemates had a coffee cup with something written on it with a sharpie. "Paris Hilton called," it said. "She wants to know if you can bail her out."

I guess one of the coffee huts has plain white cups and when the baristas get bored (between 9 and 5, I imagine) they write clever sayings on them. The man whose coffee it was hadn't even noticed it said anything, which was odd, but I give him mad props for knowing how to prevent us from slipping into a 20-minute discussion about Paris Hilton. "That turned into a real firestorm," the driver observed.

I started to go into my version of the events, when the coffee drinker said, "I'm really interested to see how the (Scooter) Libby thing turns out."

Bravo. Keep us from sinking any deeper.

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