I work with a bunch of smart-alecks.
I’m not even going to try to sugar-coat that. Telling it like it is today, folks!
I took a week off and returned to an office full of their smart-aleckness. Yes, I just made that word up. As an editor, I feel I’m entitled to do so.
Anyway, regular readers of this column might remember the not-so-distant office foolery surrounding my professed hatred of oranges. For those who aren’t regular readers, I’ll admonish you for not tuning in weekly (in jest, of course) and then catch you up. I don’t like oranges. Well, I don’t like the smell of oranges. It’s overpowering and just plain gross.
So, I wrote a column about not liking oranges and people came out of the woodwork to ensure I was surrounded by the not-so-sweet smell of oranges. They left them on my car, hid them in my office and even tried to tuck one in my purse when I wasn’t looking. Well, come Easter, the Easter Bunny visited my office over the weekend and left all manner of orange-scented treats everywhere.
So, suffice it to say everyone thinks they are funny. Well, after this nonsense had continued on for weeks, a brilliant idea hit me. I should write a column about how much I hate $100 bills and just sit back and wait for the money to roll in! So I told the office peeps about this idea and how I knew it was a long shot, but I still had hope.
And that was the end of that — or so I thought.
That brings us back to where this story started. I returned from vacation on Monday to find my office door closed. I instantly knew something was amiss, as I never close my office door. And then I noticed the $100 bill taped to the door. It was smaller than a regular bill, but only slightly. It was green like real money, and even had big 100s appearing in all four corners. But sadly, this bill had my face on it and the words “Misty Money” in bold red lettering.