There has been a pair of black leggings in the copy room since Monday.
Sometimes they're on the counter. Sometimes they're on the chair. I would not be terribly surprised if tomorrow I went to stow my Diet Coke in the fridge and they were in there, casually flung next to someone's three-day-old Bertucci's pizza, an errant hem dangerously flapping at the edge of the salad crisper.
How did they get there? I wonder. Did a modern dance enthusiast get lost on her way to a performance and somehow wind up in our suite, whereupon she shed half her clothes in confusion and despair? Is that troll-like woman who always leaves the bathroom door open actually a Sienna Miller impersonator by night? Did one of the HUNDREDS of undergrad girls who crowd the sidewalks clad in ballet flats, black leggings and very very small jean skirts suddenly realize "my God, my normal-sized ass looks enormous in this ridiculous outfit!" and run into the nearest open office to frantically change into sweatpants like a normal college student should wear? And leave the evidence behind? Inquiring minds want to know, people!
Do you have a better idea of how a pair of leggings came to live in our copy room? Knowing the origin of the infestation is key. Because if they set up camp for good and start inviting gaucho pants and high-rise pleated jeans to come live with them, I'm going to have to get a new job. A new job in a place where ill-advised trendy pants don't randomly visually assault the employees.
Workplace safety, friends. Now more than ever.
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6 comments:
Wow. That's kind of awesome.
If it were me, it probably would have been static cling like all of those days when I get to work and realize that I have three random socks and a pair of underwear stuck inside my trouser leg.
Mid-day copy room tryst, with evidence left behind?
I-66, I'm fairly sure that no one on my floor is getting laid ever, much less in the copy room. Sadly, the modern dance enthusiast is a more likely scenario.
a frightening development:
this morning, they were inside out.
is the troll sleeping here? are those her pajamas? WHAT is going on?!
i took the tongs that were in the copy room, picked up the leggings, and put them in the garbage ...
... and yes, this does beg the question ... what are tongs doing in our copy room? perhaps we should take an inventory
Oh, Gawd, woman you nearly moved me to write "lol." Do you know how much I despise "lol."
Fuck it. LOL.
I left them there. I'd worn them to a job interview thinking that one glimpse of my powerful, tightly coiled calves would tip the scales in my favor but the guy just called the cops. What a weirdo.
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