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Friday, June 3rd, 2005 08:08 pm
action!hero!jenn!
Or, how I, singlehandedly, fell over on my ass and also tried to arm myself with a stapler!
This? Needs music. Let's start with the Mission Impossible Theme song, which, in the movie of my life, plays constantly in hopes *something* will happen.
To give you a visual, when you come through the double glass doors of the lobby, you are faced with five windows at a light arch. Window five is far left, almost invisible, window three straight ahead from the door. This is where we help clients. To the left of the doors is the Application Window and the Unnamed Door. There are four doors from the offices to the lobby.
During an interesting morning, a man came into the lobby acting peculiarly, in such a way as to make Some People a tad bit nervous. He immediately proceeded to cement the idea of Something Not Right by *leaping through* Window Three, which for those playing the home game, is my former window where I, you know, *worked*.
Say it with me. He leaped through the window.
This is not easy. The window is roughly around waist high to a 5'7" person. Liken unto a flying squirrel, he *leaped through the window*, scaring the clerks to death. The lobby emptied out like someone announced a Justin Timberlake sighting, running for their cars, shelter, etc.
This is when Yours Truly opened the left door into teh lobby to let her client out.
M, at the Application window, just beside me, made a series of really strange word-like noises and ran out to stop--something. Panic ensued. Clients who hadn't gotten to the front door started comign toward me like a Dilliards sale in progress. I stood there blankly, trying to figure out what was going on, cause, well, EMPTY LOBBY. M. PANICKED NOISES. NOT GOOD.
But again, I didn't *see* anything.
Urging my client back, the others came over to gather, but none of us being uncurious, we kept that door open, looking around to see what on earth was going on. Paging of J was going on at the top of the pagers considerable speakers. I was just trying to figure out why a lone white guy was stadnign at one fo teh windows, looking confused. Was this the crazy person? Well, no, he just coudn't figure outwhere to go.
Crazy Person re-exited into teh lobby and started, I kid you not, to pursue M across the lobby, J in pursuit. My clients came running in my door, M skidded after, and I, completely unexpectedly, realized it would be good if this door was closed.
Now, here's the thing about sudden bouts of common sense. They happen so rarely that you don't recognize them, and they don't give you time to set your feet good. I hit the door with my full weight but I was wearing mules that slid, but still, *almost* got it closed, for which I am pleased, since he was bigger than me and you know, crazy. According to J, trying to herd him away from us, he let loose with a flying squirrel kick that sent me on my knees (fucking stupid mules) and he paced through the door without stopping. This left me alone in the room with--a desk, a chair, a closed Application Window, and a stapler.
I was *so ready* with that stapler.
Another little known fact of life. Adrenaline is *good stuff*. I had a brief moment of wondering whether I'd ingested something extra in my coffee while standing there, by a desk, with a *stapler*, thinking, if he comes near me, I am so going to bring him *down*.
By--stapling him to death, I suppose. *sighs*
Anyway, he paced back by--door was still open, we *wanted* him out--and J herded him outside and away from the clients while they were herded back inside and the doors locked. We all wandered around wondering what to do, as various people asked me if he'd hurt me, if I was okay (hell yes, I was on *adrenaline*, I was seriously considering a bout of flying later), and others asking what had happened. Eventually, the police came and questioned, and someone told someone told someone I'd been around, so out I go to be asked whether I'd been hurt or if this was going to result in an assault case. Which of course, no--I wasn't hurt, he didn't do any damage, and I honestly think that he didn't actually *see* anyone. It's very odd. But yes. I had fifteen entire seconds to look like a moron.
So, to conclude, it turns out he's a probably schizoprehnic off his medication for the last few months, according to what J got out of the police. Also, the man was kind enough to inform us all in portentous tones that he was The Dangerous Kind, which really upps the drama factor even if we have no idea what it means.
But wait. It gets better.
The thing about rumor is it travels faster than actual events. Less than thirty minutes later, I'm on the phone with Help Desk and mention to the girl there--an entire twenty miles away in a different part of the city--that we had drama occur, and she *knew aboutit* and demanded a blow by blow. My mother is less than a mile away, so I called there, wondering if, as rumor has that habit of just burying fact, she'd think we'd all been killed in a massive bloodbath of Homeric proportions. She hadn't, I gave her the Reader's Digest Version--Scary Person, arrested, contained, all's well.
Then my mother sees the new Program Manager (supervisor's supervisor) and tells him, who then comes to teh office to check up on everyone, since no one had called to tell him about the event, and who was probably unamused about that. So yes, we are back to me being the office mole. He stopped by my office and by J's to see if we were okay and all that, and I was later to find out he never even bothered to tell the supervisor and worker IVs he had come by until he was leaving.
So. I have had my One Day of Adventure, capped with Wendy's for lunch and an hourly group replay of the entire situation by everyone who had been around it.
Sometimes? My life is not boring after all. Though I think one of these should only happen once a year or so.
I need a flying squirrel icon now.
This? Needs music. Let's start with the Mission Impossible Theme song, which, in the movie of my life, plays constantly in hopes *something* will happen.
To give you a visual, when you come through the double glass doors of the lobby, you are faced with five windows at a light arch. Window five is far left, almost invisible, window three straight ahead from the door. This is where we help clients. To the left of the doors is the Application Window and the Unnamed Door. There are four doors from the offices to the lobby.
During an interesting morning, a man came into the lobby acting peculiarly, in such a way as to make Some People a tad bit nervous. He immediately proceeded to cement the idea of Something Not Right by *leaping through* Window Three, which for those playing the home game, is my former window where I, you know, *worked*.
Say it with me. He leaped through the window.
This is not easy. The window is roughly around waist high to a 5'7" person. Liken unto a flying squirrel, he *leaped through the window*, scaring the clerks to death. The lobby emptied out like someone announced a Justin Timberlake sighting, running for their cars, shelter, etc.
This is when Yours Truly opened the left door into teh lobby to let her client out.
M, at the Application window, just beside me, made a series of really strange word-like noises and ran out to stop--something. Panic ensued. Clients who hadn't gotten to the front door started comign toward me like a Dilliards sale in progress. I stood there blankly, trying to figure out what was going on, cause, well, EMPTY LOBBY. M. PANICKED NOISES. NOT GOOD.
But again, I didn't *see* anything.
Urging my client back, the others came over to gather, but none of us being uncurious, we kept that door open, looking around to see what on earth was going on. Paging of J was going on at the top of the pagers considerable speakers. I was just trying to figure out why a lone white guy was stadnign at one fo teh windows, looking confused. Was this the crazy person? Well, no, he just coudn't figure outwhere to go.
Crazy Person re-exited into teh lobby and started, I kid you not, to pursue M across the lobby, J in pursuit. My clients came running in my door, M skidded after, and I, completely unexpectedly, realized it would be good if this door was closed.
Now, here's the thing about sudden bouts of common sense. They happen so rarely that you don't recognize them, and they don't give you time to set your feet good. I hit the door with my full weight but I was wearing mules that slid, but still, *almost* got it closed, for which I am pleased, since he was bigger than me and you know, crazy. According to J, trying to herd him away from us, he let loose with a flying squirrel kick that sent me on my knees (fucking stupid mules) and he paced through the door without stopping. This left me alone in the room with--a desk, a chair, a closed Application Window, and a stapler.
I was *so ready* with that stapler.
Another little known fact of life. Adrenaline is *good stuff*. I had a brief moment of wondering whether I'd ingested something extra in my coffee while standing there, by a desk, with a *stapler*, thinking, if he comes near me, I am so going to bring him *down*.
By--stapling him to death, I suppose. *sighs*
Anyway, he paced back by--door was still open, we *wanted* him out--and J herded him outside and away from the clients while they were herded back inside and the doors locked. We all wandered around wondering what to do, as various people asked me if he'd hurt me, if I was okay (hell yes, I was on *adrenaline*, I was seriously considering a bout of flying later), and others asking what had happened. Eventually, the police came and questioned, and someone told someone told someone I'd been around, so out I go to be asked whether I'd been hurt or if this was going to result in an assault case. Which of course, no--I wasn't hurt, he didn't do any damage, and I honestly think that he didn't actually *see* anyone. It's very odd. But yes. I had fifteen entire seconds to look like a moron.
So, to conclude, it turns out he's a probably schizoprehnic off his medication for the last few months, according to what J got out of the police. Also, the man was kind enough to inform us all in portentous tones that he was The Dangerous Kind, which really upps the drama factor even if we have no idea what it means.
But wait. It gets better.
The thing about rumor is it travels faster than actual events. Less than thirty minutes later, I'm on the phone with Help Desk and mention to the girl there--an entire twenty miles away in a different part of the city--that we had drama occur, and she *knew aboutit* and demanded a blow by blow. My mother is less than a mile away, so I called there, wondering if, as rumor has that habit of just burying fact, she'd think we'd all been killed in a massive bloodbath of Homeric proportions. She hadn't, I gave her the Reader's Digest Version--Scary Person, arrested, contained, all's well.
Then my mother sees the new Program Manager (supervisor's supervisor) and tells him, who then comes to teh office to check up on everyone, since no one had called to tell him about the event, and who was probably unamused about that. So yes, we are back to me being the office mole. He stopped by my office and by J's to see if we were okay and all that, and I was later to find out he never even bothered to tell the supervisor and worker IVs he had come by until he was leaving.
So. I have had my One Day of Adventure, capped with Wendy's for lunch and an hourly group replay of the entire situation by everyone who had been around it.
Sometimes? My life is not boring after all. Though I think one of these should only happen once a year or so.
I need a flying squirrel icon now.
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From:You realise that as you said that, I started humming it. Now I'm going to be stuck iwth that tune all day.
And, wow, you really do need that background music for a tale like that. Glad you're okay, though. (And enjoy the adrenaline high. That's what good caffeine is trying to produce.)
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From:Well, no, that would require a level of industry that my natural laziness precludes. *ponders* Does this come in some kind of pill form?
*hopeful*
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From:If you find it, SHARE!
Although, having said that, the answer is probably "speed" and other amphetamines. *laughs* Which, you know, probably not good in the long term.
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Flying Squirrel Icon for ya
From:I still haven't figured out how to add text to gifs.
I was thinking
"I have a Stapler" ;-)
http://ca.geocities.com/bastian1967@rogers.com/images/general/flying1.gif
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Re: Flying Squirrel Icon for ya
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Re: Flying Squirrel Icon for ya
From:*hugs you*
*hugs icon*
Thank you! *bounces*
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From:Kudos for the quick thinking on getting the door closed, even if your shoes were plotting against you!
I assume the stapler was one of those flimsy plastic models that can barely staple paper? I have one of these suckers and I think you might actually give someone a concussion with it.
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From:I have to admit, I could live with this happening, like, never again.
Kudos for the quick thinking on getting the door closed, even if your shoes were plotting against you!
I was so close to hysterical giggles, you wouldn't believe it. It was *so* not waht I'm used to.
I assume the stapler was one of those flimsy plastic models that can barely staple paper? I have one of these suckers and I think you might actually give someone a concussion with it.
Hmm. Good point. Though considering this is me, I probably would have lost my head and thrown it at him or something. *sighs* I am not go-to girl in a crisis.
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From:*hugs*
Rough damn day. Glad you're okay.
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From:*huggles* You are marvelous.
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From:But glad you are okay! That was pretty intense.
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From:*giggles*
But glad you are okay! That was pretty intense.
Interestingly so, yes. I can hope for a bit more boredom in the future.
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From:Another little known fact of life. Adrenaline is *good stuff*. I had a brief moment of wondering whether I'd ingested something extra in my coffee while standing there, by a desk, with a *stapler*, thinking, if he comes near me, I am so going to bring him *down*.
By--stapling him to death, I suppose. *sighs*
That? Is hot. I think you're my new fandom. Can I write fanfic about this?
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From:I have never appreciated staplers more in my life than this morning.
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From:*blinks*
I'm sure you were quite intimidating with your stapler. *nods*
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From:Once in group therapy when two ignorant young hoodlums, who summarily got their butts discharged and sent back to juvenile prison, decided to go 'macho' on one another, I took my clipboard and stuck it between them. *rolls eyes at self*
But in my defense, in MY feeble mind, it was an attempt to distract them from their rage. Apparently in the eyes of my coworkers it was something that they could tease me about endlessly for-EVER. lol Not to mention the fact that they could barely stop laughing long enough to help me wrestle the two aforementioned idiots apart.
And people wonder why I love my new job as a stay-at-home mommy.
Sooo glad that you made it out safe and sound, and welcome to the elite group of office supply wielders. :D
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From:As I was very very very drunk.
Hee.
Glad you're ok!
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