So Then ... Stories

So then…Lou (our Finance VP), Henry (our Operations VP), and I approach the gate just in time to hear that our connecting flight home is delayed 30 minutes.

My face crumples in frustration.

Lou’s face twitches in aggravation.

Henry’s face is expressionless because he is a robot.

No, seriously, I have long suspected Henry is not actually human. Always punctual. Never goofs around. Follows all the rules. Never shows emotion. Always approaches problems logically.

Totally serious and buttoned-up. I’m pretty sure he has an Iphone app to schedule his poops.

When the Sales & Marketing crew and I are hootin’ and hollerin’ and carryin’ on, Henry steadfastly ignores us and quietly does his work.

When Lou’s Finance team is stressin’ and sweatin’ over the budget numbers, Henry methodically completes his tasks.

When the salty sailors among us spout profanity at missed shipments or demanding clients, Henry piously looks away to continue his duties.

When we take a longer lunch to celebrate a huge purchase order, Henry remains in his office, writing another Policy & Procedure (most likely regarding maximum time allowed for celebratory lunch breaks.)

He is robot or he is Vulcan. I swear by it.

So now the 3 of us have 30 minutes to indulge in WHATEVER WE WANT — so we quickly scatter, agreeing to meet back at a central table in the food court.

After 2 boring days at the corporate conference and several hours on the first flight, I know what I’m craving – but I can’t locate any hot pilots in an empty travel lounge –

So I settle for second best – the ice cream kiosk. Come to mama, you sweet, creamy bowl of devilish deliciousness!

I plop down at the table with my over-the-top hot fudge sundae just as Finance Lou approaches with his little luxury – a stiff drink. A double, no less!

As I inhale my sugary carbs and Lou savors his liquor, I can only imagine what constitutes a “guilty pleasure” for Henry.

And here he comes, with a roast beef sandwich with lettuce on whole wheat bread.

Well, of course.

He chooses something nutritious and appropriate.

He is a robot.

Just as I’m laughing to myself about our choices, Henry reaches down into his briefcase and pulls out…a small bottle of HOT SAUCE!

(He travels with his own bottle of HOT SAUCE?)

He slathers the spicy sauce all over his sandwich, takes a huge bite and beams — hot sauce dribbling down his chain.

Ahhh, Henry, you’ve restored my faith in your humanity.

Perhaps you are not a robot after all!

— Darcy Perdu

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(OK, quick, you’ve got 30 extra minutes at the airport – what do you do? Massage kiosk? Those weird oxygen bars? Book/magazine? Favorite food or alcohol? Horny flight attendant? Do tell!)

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So then…I snurkle – which, as everyone knows, is a cross between a snort and a chuckle.

When you see why, I think you’ll snurkle too.

I send this email to a colleague (let’s call him “Bob”):

His response:

Um…OK.

Like this?

Malibu Beach is just 20 minutes from my home. I could literally be in the Pacific Ocean in a flash! Does he want me to hop in with my laptop to reply?

Or does he mean like Chandler Bing:

“Could you BE any more pacific?”

Yes, Chandler Bing, I COULD be!

Here I am surrounded by Pacific Islanders.

We shall dance on the beach by the light of the moon, roast a pig, and drink Kava made from the ground root of the pepper shrub.

Now, I don’t know this particular colleague “Bob” very well — but I do know that he is educated — and English is his first language.

So what’s up?

It’s possible he means, “Could you be more specific?” – but that can’t possibly be the case since my email clearly outlines the specific information I’m requesting.

So I can only surmise that my email happened to arrive on his computer screen at the exact moment he realized he was dissatisfied with my ethnicity. “Hmm, I’m not diggin’ her CandyAss Caucasian vibe; I wonder if she could be more Pacific. Let me ask.” So he fired off that email.

I’m not sure exactly how to respond.

Should I reply: “What do you mean?”

Or just write “Sure!” and send him the photos above?

Or perhaps, “Please be more Atlantic.”

Or “Please be more specific.”

Or maybe just toss out something random like, “Please be more Presbyterian.”

Or something annoying like, “Please be more accurate in your email responses.”

But I certainly wouldn’t want to offend, since there’s a chance he did mean to write “specific” – and something got in the way – like spell check or day drinking.

So I shall let you decide the best response.

If someone wrote you an email saying, “Please be more pacific” – how would you reply?

— Darcy Perdu

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(When you saw his response, did you snurkle? How would YOU respond to his email?)

Tag Archives: office

Is My Coworker ACTUALLY a Robot? You Decide

You’re Gonna SNURKLE When You See The Email This Guy Sent Me!