Tuesday, March 08, 2005


Okay, here’s a wacky question that can keep you up at night. If you’re waiting for an elevator and the doors open and there’s an actual sumo wrestler inside – do you get on? I saw that on a commercial once and it just freaked me out for days.

That being said, I am moving the subject to something completely different. Of the philosophical nature, if you will. We as human beings are generally raised with, or glean along the way, a certain social awareness. An intuitive sense that certain impulses should not be acted upon. IMPULSE. I M P U L S E. A sudden wish or urge that prompts an unpremeditated act or feeling. For example, I might have an overwhelming desire to get up and leave my comfy spot in a comfy booth at Mel’s Diner, walk over to a complete stranger comfortably seated at ANOTHER comfy booth, pick up a ketchup bottle and dump it over the stranger’s head. That type of behavior is generally frowned upon and deemed unacceptable unless you are on a reality teeVEE show, and then it is expected behavior befitting a representative of the United States. And given that Mel’s, while a diner, is generally patronized by well coifed people in full makeup who have had a lot of work done to make them appear younger, more firm, lifted and (except for Linda Tripp, who had just had God knows WHAT done to her face and looked like a cadaver cheerfully eating an omelet) a lot like Barbie, or Ken for that matter, chances are I would be messing up a really nice hairdo and expensive tee shirt.

IMPULSE. A sudden wish or urge that prompts an unpremeditated act or feeling. That would be the ketchup scenario. ORRRRR the electrochemical transmission of a signal along a nerve fiber that produces an excitatory or inhibitory response at a target tissue, such as a muscle or another nerve...That would be the ketchup scenario if my body acted independently in all things, despite thought control…okay, so what if I woke up one morning and everything that I thought about I started doing – completely incapable of controlling it – just because I thought about it and the brainwaves kicked off the electrochemical transmission of a signal to the rest of me? What if I started furiously masturbating in a public mall because I passed a Circuit City and they were showing the 1996 Tom Berenger movie “THE SUBSTITUTE” on each and every one of their large screen television displays…and I just THOUGHT about it?...Okay, where was I.

An example of a NON IMPULSIVE act, but rather the desperate fight for freedom, dignity and office Feng Shui, would be my giving notice at the 7th circle of hell cubicle drone job I have mentioned in posts past. Yes, you may congratulate me for telling Ursula the Cubicle Witch that I will be moving right along. And in a group act that just warms my cockles, some of my co-workers, in silent passive aggressive protest, have arranged a little good-bye gathering where pie will be served. Rhubarb pie. Ursula the Cubicle Witch just LOATHES rhubarb pie. Which is why they will be serving it.

It is my opinion that one’s ass always looks best when one is walking away.


Blogger Lawchick2005 said...

Your description of "Ursula the cubicle witch" gave me an 'impulsive' vision of hurling the steaming hot rhubarb pie all over her "regulation" garb and knarled, ever-pointing finger...... Not very nice, huh? Oh well, it was simply an impulsive vision, nothing more. Thanks for your comments on my site! I look forward to reading more of your great, entertaining writing!

08 March, 2005 23:38  
Blogger Whymrhymer said...

Re: Your initial question -- that would depend on the size of the elevator vs. the size of the sumo wrestler vs. your need to take an elevator ride vs. (now that I think of it) the length of time since his last wrestling match and the amount of persperation dripping from his . . . uhh, appendages and . . . oh hell, that's not as easy a decision as I thought.

P.S., I'm with Ursula -- hate rhubarb pie!

09 March, 2005 04:07  
Blogger R said...

Yes but if you knew Ursula then you would eat the pie anyway, while standing quite close to her. Close enough for her to smell it and maybe get a little on her cheek as you talk with your mouth wide open, full of pie. You might even smear a little on her chair when she is not looking so that she spends the rest of the day with a big bright red mark on her pants. Leaving her a little sumpin sumpin to remember you by. Good for YOU for leaving!!!! Here is to the next phase of your life. May it be joyous and minus the ursula's of the world.

09 March, 2005 11:19  
Blogger Jet said...

Well Done! Your talents were wasted on Ursula, who will probably not even GET that the pie is symbolic. Thomas McCay was right, being Ursula is it's own worst payback.

As for the sumo wrestler, I suspect that the writer in you would never be able to turn that elevator ride down. What an opportunity to investigate, describe and possibly alliterate upon. "The sweat, sumo style, swept his skin salaciously southward..."

Another door has opened for you, you just have to find it and see if there's a sumo behind it.

09 March, 2005 11:57  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I think I've been happier when I've quit jobs than I've ever been getting them in the first place. In fact, the last time I quit I had been formulating a plan to move away somewhere tropical when my boss came into my cubicle (eerily enough he was the male version of Ursula, we'll call him Scott the Cubicle Troll for the sake of the story) and wanted to talk about my future.

The results from that talk are still being felt by both parties as I quit and he was left holding the proverbial bag. I'm living in Maui now and he's stuck in a sinking ship better known as a dotcom entertainment portal. Who wins? Who loses? The jury is on its way back into the courtroom...

09 March, 2005 18:37  
Blogger Laura said...

I'm looking forward to hearing how your last day of work went, how the pie was, and what your next adventure will be...

14 March, 2005 05:23  
Blogger Cranky Liberal said...

Oh you've done that Circuit City thing too?

Oh crap I mean ummm

15 March, 2005 06:24  
Blogger ~Betsy said...

Excellent! I laughed out loud thinking about how excited my six-year-old son would be when I would show him the photos of the sumo wrestler that I rode with in the elevator! He's fascinated with sumo wrestlers, so much so that, as of now, he plans to become one "when he grows up"! I think they (sumo wrestlers) follow a strict code and would not pound the living crap out of someone on an elevator, unless it was another sumo wrestler. Now wouldn't THAT be wild?! Imagine the doors opening onto that scene!

On the Ursula front, Good for you! You get to show her your back as you walk into a better Life Outside Cubicle Hell. I like the idea of spreading a bit o' rhubarb on her chair, for good luck. See Ya, Urs!

Keep up the fabulous writing and perhaps you can publish for $$!! I'd buy it.

15 March, 2005 19:09  

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