I bring in brownies on Monday, and as coincidence would have it another coworker brought in massive muffins. My too polite coworkers would see one, and take one, then see the other and not wanting to insult the provider, would take one as well. At about 11:30 this morning most of the too polite coworkers were stumbling around in insulin shock and the number of random requests for computer aid dropped precipitously. I should try to coordinate this “coincidence” more often.
Tag: work
Cake-pliment
I’m incapable of down-scaling a recipe. I can make a double, triple or quadruple batch but not a 1/2 sized one. So, when I made a cake that produced two rounds instead of my normal 3 I had to get create in icing. After dismissing the idea of frosting the bottom, I started cutting divets to create holes across layers that became cream cheese frosting veins to connect the strata of sugared cheese and butter. I was unsure if it’d turn out too rich and my answer came from a comment from a coworker: “Terry, the frosting with cake in it was wonderful.”
Further confirmation came from the guy who kept coming in with fake questions so he’d have an excuse to coyishly have more cake.
Cake Heresy
I’m not one to protest cake combinations but today’s rasberry chocolate vanilla pound cake was simply a travesty. The cake used a royal icing which consists mostly of powdered sugar and egg whites. The lack of an emulsifier or other softening agent creates a frosting that could be used to forge a murder weapon. Being one of the lucky ones, I landed a corner rose only to howl in pain when the rose/spear hit the portion of my gums recovering from being hit by my overzealous toothbrush. Lesson learned, piece two received a haircut and the office praised me for my wisdom.
The the vanilla on raspberry on chocolate. Any two of those layers together tasted fine as later confirmed by rigorous empirical testing but the three together somehow created a melange of tongue violence. Normally, when there’s a fight over the last piece until volumetric deference kicks in and it is brought to me by supplicants, no longer. Today, this amalgamation of sheets made me fail in my role of gourmand of justice. :-(
Large Format Paper
I was tired, it was late and I wanted to read something during my end of the day constitutional so as I printed out the Technology Monitor from the Economist my adrenal glands kicked in when I heard the 60″ plotter fire up and begin spitting out beautifully rendered text wide enough to fold an origami canoe. I ripped the 5′ x 2.75′ printout from the plotter holding 21 pages of text and made an impromptu scroll from two film rolling cores (toilet paper rolls on steroids) and I went off to the can.
Once I mastered the mechanics of rolling and unrolling the cores and my arms got tired of holding my techscroll I realized why very few members of the rabbinate do Torahnic criticism on the can, or why those who do probably have massive forearms and triceps.
Whack Tech Support
The office tech support provider has been changed from a delightful group of midwestern folk to the standard East Asian fare.  Today, I discovered that this group only offers basic technical support and should you have a trickier question it goes elsewhere. The real gem is if you have an FTP or remote access issue; from our best guesses one gets to talk to Newark’s finest.
It’s refreshing to hear a corrupted databased referred to as both “whack” and “fubar” compared to a “dope” Oracle setup. The operator knew his stuff and shant be fronting and recommended we opt for the safer VPN option rather than the FTP/Remote Desktop.  <white circle 1997>I’m not exactly sure in what hood he rolls his non-hoopdie ride but he was so helpful I wished not to get all up his grill about it.</white circle 1997>
Accidental Cookie Donuts
I ran short on time to prepare Monday baked goods for work and was forced to use the boxed stuff. I felt dirty at first and compromised by using the box brownie mix in a novel way. I’d switch from oil to butter, add water and make cookies instead of brownies. I even had a packet of caramel to add to the top to make them look like those adorable (type of cookie where there’s stuff in the center) that everyone likes. I made thumb depressions in the cookie blanks, added the caramel, threw it in the oven at 350°F for 14 minutes and celebrated my victory by going to town on the beaters.
I pulled them from the oven left them to cool for an hour and came back to…. donuts.  Apparently, the caramel prevented the centers from cooking and with additional weight of the sauce the centers dropped through the grating of the cooling rack. So, tomorrow I will go to work with not one but two goodies. First, the donut cookies with their hole slightly creamed with caramel, and second the slightly under cooked centers that I’ve come to call caramel hats.
Stupid like a fox.
Anti-Thrift Pizza
Joe’s Pizza on 206 serves mediocre pizza at high prices of around $3.25 a slice for a sixth of a 16″ pie topped with at least 3 meats. Three of us went to lunch today and thinking ourselves sneaky purchased a polymeat pizza while rubbing our hands greedily thinking of the ensuing savings. Instead of a fresh pie at a more reasonable price, we got six reheated slices at a cost of $24.00. Yep, it would have been cheaper to purchase six single slices (19.50) rather than the whole pie. Is there some sort of pizza gestalt such that the whole pie is much more valuable than the pieces? Is this his passive aggressive way of saying “stop eating my food, panda jerk”? Did he see our sneaky handrubbing?
Time to go back to jerky cured in a 40°C environmental chamber. Where else can you get ISO 9000-certified dried beef?
Printard Rebellion
We have a printer at work that’s slowly dying. The manual feed tray is held in place by a rubber mallet wedged in place between the printer and a desk. It prints like a stuttering autistic person, should one page fail, the whole project starts anew, usually to stop again at roughly the same point.
At first I thought this was the cacophonous swan song of a dying workhorse but there may be a typographic labor movement afoot. I was printing a document today and it jammed, not too odd except for I was printing to a PDF file. I suspect the work printers have combined forces with the print drivers and are unionizing. This wildcat strike that has been masquerading as a device problem is only the first wave. I must break the back of this printer-tariat (good one, eh?) uprising before the fax machine and the plotter jump on board.
Work Flashbacks
I stopped at Subway on the way to work, which I never do. I wasn’t sure why, but I did. I then felt some anxiety whenever my boss walked in, which I never do (both my bosses are awesome). I had a cup off coffee at about 7, which I never do. Then, looking down at my white shirt around 8 PM, it clicked: For the last few months I’ve worn unscented deodorant, and today I ran out and applied my backup stick of Springtime Baby Rain or whatever overly flowerly scent I had on reserve. The last time I wore this deodorant was when I worked at RadioShack in 2002-2003 and I believe the scent somehow triggered latent workplace instinct. I need to purchase a replacement stick before I start acting surly to people who’re unfamiliar with setting up home theatre systems and attempt to sell my coworkers Monster Cables.
Fatman Gambit
Office equipment is periodically reapportioned by our facilities people and Friday was one such day of reckoning. I came in late that day and was greeted at as a hero by office mates.
When facilities came to claim our superior chairs reclaimed from departed coworkers and pulled from executive dumpsters these minions of austerity were cowed by fears of angering the “Large One”. They left once told that the only chairs in the building that could accommodate my carriage were the really really nice ones that just happened to have a larger seat pan, an independent-spring back, adjustable arms and six casters instead of four. Furthermore, since I was a temp, I could theoretically work in anyone’s cube at any time so all the chairs had to stay instead of just mine. Further proof I work with geniuses.