array

so with this new office arrangement, we saw the end killing stuff monthly's african wing which doubled as our lunch room which puts us in a bit of a bind when it comes to dining options. no more can we sit in a room and talk shit about , well, anything. it would screw up the work dynamic of others and now that we're all packed together like sardines, the bastard has to be, well, less loud. (well, i ain't trying that hard mind you).

so instead we go out. and first off, justice wants to sit outside. but not everyone wants to be in the sun. but all of the umbrellas become occupied and then suddenly, none of the umbrellas are occupied which dleads our undocumented staff to construct this little umbrella array in which we can dine under.

FLASH FORWARD: the bastard is 2 sips into his soda, when chuckles, the water guy decides to aid me in wearing my drink on my pants. he apologizes and goes to fetch me some napkins, only he comes out with one and hands it to me.

"are you kidding?"

"excuse me"

"are you kidding me." i'm stating this, not asking at this point

"excuse me?"

"i can't dry this off with one napkin. i'm going to need a few"

"excuse me?"

at this point justice points out that his english might not be so good. so i did what any other ugly american would do, i asked him for more napkins. loudly and slowly. he was very apologetic in his way but, i think he was either pissed at me or afraid of me. either way would have made sense to me as i WAS shouting at this point. either way, after lunch (which was pretty damn good despite the wet pants), i hightailed it down to macys to get some new pants. nothing the bastard likes more than an expensive lunch.

—the bastard