Thursday, November 15, 2012

No Such Thing as Free Fudge

I'm not sure if I've got one of those faces people feel they can open up to, if I'm often in the wrong place at the wrong time, or if I attract people who will just talk to whoever they come upon (I may in fact BE one of those people, so that answer seems like poetic justice).

For example, a woman -- only a few sentences into our strangerly exchange -- once exclaimed, "After the fifth time I'd been raped, I said, NO MORE.  I'm not going through this ever again!"

Yes, that really happened.

Today's Captain Overshare Award goes to our traveling contract IT guy.  He's an older man, very nice, and often contaminated with some sort of virus or bacteria.  As such, it's always best to wipe down one's phone, computer, desk, and chair arm rests with a disinfecting wipe after his visit.

He had occasion to visit my cube today while I was at lunch.  I thought he was gone when I got back until he busted me wiping down every exposed surface area on and around my desk...

I'm hoping he thought it was just because I knew he was sick.

He spotted a tin of Spam Lite ("Crazy Tasty!") that I won during a Beer Mile a few years back and we got to chatting.  It went something like this:

"I won that during a goofy race my friend organized.  I had to drink a beer, run a 1/4 mile; drink a beer, run a 1/4 mile; drink a beer, run a 1/4 mile; drink a beer, run a 1/4 mile."

"I don't drink beer.  (Pats large stomach).  This is all food.  My wife's a wonderful cook.  So was my mother.  My mother made the best fudge.  Do you like fudge?"

"I do!"  (I'm still feeling guilty about his seeing me wiping down my cube, so I'm being extra friendly.  Or just friendly.  It's not how I usually roll at work.  Or many places.  And soon you'll see why.)

"Then come with me!"  He scurries off two cubes away to the other computer he's trying to save and starts digging through his medium-sized Igloo cooler.

"Oh!  I don't actually NEED any fudge, what with the holidays coming..."

Yeah.  Forget it.  I had to eat the fudge in front of him.  And yes, it was delicious, but this guy is almost a complete stranger.  But I didn't want to be rude.  Like writing about him without his knowledge...

And from there, things got a little crazy.  I pretty much just nodded and smiled from this point on:

My mother didn't give her fudge recipe to my brother Blank's wife or my other brother Blank's wife, she only gave it to my wife.  My wife sits by the stove and stirs it, but if she has to go to the bathroom, I come over and stir it.  My wife has to wear one of those CPAP machines at night and I only get about 4 hours of sleep because I have to keep getting up to go to the bathroom since I had prostate cancer a few years back.  The tumor was the size of a softball and they said there were 3 things they could do: they could introduce the seed, but based on the size of it, they'd have to put so many in there that it would be dangerous; they could cut it out; or they could try radiation.  When I had the radiation, Number 1 felt like burning and Number 2 felt like razor blades!  When they went in to sample it beforehand, they used one of those things to examine me that they use on you when you get examined (gestures to his crotch area and then a little towards mine).  The first time I had the sampling done I wanted to scream in pain and that was only 4 samples.  The second time they said they were going to have to do it about 30 times and I thought, "Oh, no!"  I don't know what the second doctor did differently, but it didn't hurt at all.  He numbed it and then got right in there while the first doctor numbed it and waited a few minutes, so maybe that was it.  [Here we went through a thorough breakdown of his health insurance and out-of-pocket expenses.]  I had to get 4 hormone injections and they cost me $700 each!  My doctor's finger was about THIS BIG (shows me his raised forearm, bent at the elbow).

It was here that I was finally able to walk away.  There was A LOT more filler information, but the above includes the highlights.  I thought one of my coworkers was in the cubicle I was leaning against and when I asked her about it later, she just started laughing.  Yes, she heard the whole thing. And said that she hunkered down in her cube so he couldn't see her and suck her into the conversation!

Again, he's a really nice guy and he has to keep fixing these godforsaken computers we were issued last year and the fudge WAS delicious, but YOWZA.

You'll be happy to know that Number 1 no longer burns.  I have no idea about Number 2.

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