Update: Classes no longer require sign-in.
Let me tell you about my dream job. I work in a gigantic office, but also it isn’t an office. Because if I turn my swivel chair backwards, I can see I’m on the edge of a cliff. So I decide it’s definitely better to keep facing my desk and not acknowledge the deadly precipice that lurks behind me.
That said, my desk isn’t great either. If I put loose papers on it, they blow away even though I’m indoors and there’s no breeze. (Of course, as I mentioned, if I turn around, I’m clearly outdoors, what with the cliff and all, so maybe that explains the breeze?) Also, the papers are all in Korean, which I can’t understand anyway, but how do I even know it’s Korean? Maybe I can understand it after all? I stare really hard at one paper and yes, I can read Korean! But then I realize it says, “You can’t read this. Because it’s in Korean.”
The whole setup is so confusing at my dream job that I need to ask my coworker about it. So I ask my pod-mate, Marty, who is so annoying. And it’s not just that his personality is annoying and he’s always talking about his favorite cheeses, it’s that sometimes he’s actually just Marty’s face on a giant ant. If you’ve ever dealt with a colleague who only has a human face and the rest of them is a giant ant, you definitely know what I’m talking about.
Anyway, I try not to dwell on the whole body-of-an-ant-that’s-even-bigger-than-my-aunt-Doris thing and just get the facts from Marty. So I interrupt his dumb joke about how gouda is so “good-a” that I’ve heard him tell a million times before but also haven’t heard before, which is weird, but I can’t explain it because, you know, dream job. And Marty tells me that the cliff has always been there and that I really shouldn’t dwell on it and when I ask why they’d build an office on the edge of a cliff, he says, “I don’t know. Ask Cliff.” And he points to our other co-worker whose name is Cliff and he laughs and laughs.
I actually don’t know if this guy’s name is Cliff. In fact, I don’t remember ever meeting him before. All I can think is, “I’m so glad Cliff doesn’t have the body of a giant ant,” but – wouldn’t you know it?! – when I go to ask Cliff, his normal body suddenly turns into that of a giant ant. And I’m like, “What is with all these giant ant bodies?!” And Marty says “Ha! ‘Ant bodies’ sounds like antibodies!” And then Cliff points at me, and says, “Let he who is without the body of a giant ant cast the first stone,” and I look down and I see that now I have the body of a giant ant too. So, what the hell?
And I start screaming, but then my high school theater teacher, Mrs. Malkowitzky, is there and she says my screaming is simply not loud enough and that I need to project more or she will have to recast me in the school production of Fiddler On the Roof. And to be honest, though I’m terribly confused at what she’s doing here at my adult work job, I’m glad for the chance to be recast because I realize it’s opening night and I haven’t learned my lines. Marty seems to know this and says “I guess you were too busy fiddling around!”
So I intentionally scream really quietly, which sounds like an oxymoron because how is that even possible? But here at my dream job it is possible, and even Marty is like, “Wow, that’s some good quiet screaming.” And Mrs. Malkowitzky says, “Okay, that’s it! You’re out of the play. I’m replacing you with Turkey Boy.” And she points behind me and I turn and see that just up the cliff is a boy with a turkey’s head and he’s naked except for a thong, on the front of which it says, “Turkey Boy’s thong. Do not touch.” And I think to myself, “Who would want to touch Turkey Boy’s thong?”, but before I can finish thinking the thought, I’m falling off the cliff and I realize I’m going to die at work and I kind of wish I’d retired early.
And then Turkey Boy is falling with me and he tells me, “Yes, you probably should have retired early” and I’m like “You can read my mind? How?” and he says “Well, I am Turkey Boy after all.” And then I suddenly realize this must be a dream and I think about how in a lot of my dreams I can fly and how that would be really convenient here. So I flap my arms and Turkey Boy says, “You look stupid doing that,” and I say, “Not as a stupid as a boy with a turkey head wearing a thong,” and he says, “Touché,” and suddenly I’m no longer falling and realize, hey, I can fly!
I experience pure elation and I think about all the places I’d love to fly, but I realize I’m still employed at this weird dream job, so I just fly back to the top of the cliff and settle in at my desk again. Except now it’s not a desk anymore; it’s Aunt Doris and she’s pretty mad at me for treating her like a desk. But before I can even apologize, suddenly Marty is feeding her some cheese. And she says, “Mmm, that’s good-a,” and they both laugh and laugh and I really want to fly away, but I can’t anymore and Mrs. Malkowitzky tells me I have to go on stage now after all, but she says it in Korean and I pretend not to understand.
I recommend reading all my old joke tweets, unless there’s anything racist or misogynistic or transphobic on there, in which case just go back and read all the tweets up to the offensive one and stop right before.
Since you probably like literary humor, I also recommend Jack Handy’s book “The Stench of Honolulu”.
You might want to watch this web series, The Public Offender, which was written by and stars this guy I know who is me: