So a few moments ago, I'm setting up a Christmas tree in an employee lounge area. (long story, short.. I've noticed the the tradition of Christmas being lost in political correctiveness, so aside from trying to reignite the spirit, i guess there is some rebelling against the political correct BS that we seem to be drowning it)
Anyhow, I had walked over to the adjoining office to borrow a scizzors from this new lady manager (who been kinda stand-offish since joining, so I been treating her the same), so (after cracking about who am I gonna stab) she followed me over to see if I was really setting up a Christmas tree..
She looks at the tree, and says "xKS you need to <span style="font-style: italic">fluff </span> ".. and starts to separate out the branches.. I immediately had a “Michael Scott” moment, but resisted the urge to reply “That’s what she said”
Anyhow, the people she manages keep coming up, and while I’m stooping over a bag of the decorative balls, picking them out and handing them one at a time to the lady decorating the tree.. A young middle-eastern lady peeps into the lounge, looks down at the bag between my crotch and in broken English, innocently says <span style="font-style: italic">“xKs those are some nice big balls you have there”.. </span>So I look up to her, look at her boss who is turning red, look back to her and reply <span style="font-style: italic">“Why thank you! I guess its genetic..”</span>
Anyhow, I had walked over to the adjoining office to borrow a scizzors from this new lady manager (who been kinda stand-offish since joining, so I been treating her the same), so (after cracking about who am I gonna stab) she followed me over to see if I was really setting up a Christmas tree..
She looks at the tree, and says "xKS you need to <span style="font-style: italic">fluff </span> ".. and starts to separate out the branches.. I immediately had a “Michael Scott” moment, but resisted the urge to reply “That’s what she said”
Anyhow, the people she manages keep coming up, and while I’m stooping over a bag of the decorative balls, picking them out and handing them one at a time to the lady decorating the tree.. A young middle-eastern lady peeps into the lounge, looks down at the bag between my crotch and in broken English, innocently says <span style="font-style: italic">“xKs those are some nice big balls you have there”.. </span>So I look up to her, look at her boss who is turning red, look back to her and reply <span style="font-style: italic">“Why thank you! I guess its genetic..”</span>
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