so we have these shiny new (re: BLANK) keycards to get in the door.and the bastard gets to the door. well the bastard gets out of an elevator to be greeted by a huge ass crowd of people who he knows reside on the 10th floor.
this doesn't look good.
and it wasn't. i bust out the key card and nothing. NOTHING.
so the bastard spins on his heel and heads for the front desk.
"hey my key card doesn't work."
"huh?"
"my key card doesn't work."
"huh?"
"key card", (i hold it up) "doesn't work. do we still have running water in this place?"
"huh? oh, (as if someone moved the needle on the record for her) we're attempting to address the problem now and the cold wind of death is attempting to address the problem"
"great. i'm going to go see if the electric is still working in this place"
"huh?"
you know i feel a little guilty making fun of the girl by the door. not really. not as much as the girl who ended up wearing most of my soda on her legs while i was walking back to the office with my lunch but, a little bit. it ain't her fault. hell it ain't the cold wind of death's fault. this is just what happens when a smaller company from downtown is put in charge of a bigger company from uptown. it's like going from playing little league baseball to playing full on big league ball. with nails in the bats and razor blades in the cleats and big nasty teeth. oh well, at least the computer starts up.
—the bastard
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