October 26th, 2009

I did a bad, bad thing.

Last week, I did something bad.  Very bad. Something almost unspeakable, that has made me question the very fiber of my morality and every molecule of my sense of humor.   It started off as a joke.   Albeit, one that was not well thought out. It was impulsive.  Well, it felt impulsive in spite of the fact that I had several opportunities to take it back, to change direction before anyone got hurt.   But still, I let it fly free and wild, like Richard Heene’s disenchanted balloon.   I sacrificed everything in the name of something I thought would be funny, something that would stir up some much needed laughter and slice through the building tension at the office.   Instead, this joke, though innocent in nature, continues to shake me and many of my colleagues, to our very core.   Every. Day.  And for that, I am truly sorry.

Our office tends to be unfathomably cold.  The physical space runs relatively narrow and long and air conditioning vents travel the length of the office.  When the air turns on, it blows like a tornado in a trailer park. And most of the ladies at our office – they are the stuff anorexic fantasies are made of.  If the future of saving lives through blood donations rested within these girls’ veins, we would be shit out of luck because a good number of them don’t meet the 110lb weight requirement to donate.  Needless to say the thin layer of skin stretched tautly over their tiny bones does not provide much protection against the elements. 

One girl in particular has been complaining relentlessly about the cold.  For a year.  And somehow, the frigid conditions of our office seem to come to a shock to her. Maybe each night she comes down with a sudden and tragic case of amnesia that prevents her from dressing appropriately.  Maybe she spends her nights praying for the miracle of temperate air and believes that an unnamed God will answer her prayer.  I don’t know.  What I do know is that with each day of icicles and tank tops, she makes a threat.  A serious threat.  And last week, I decided that I had enough.  It was time she make good on that threat and that I was going to *help* her.  And it was going to be hilarious. 

So, I did something truly terrible, for which I am very sorry.

I bought her a Snuggie.   A SNUGGIE.

Now before anyone sends hate mail or unfollows me, know that it was meant to be a joke.  The kind that you laugh at over the ridiculousness of it and then move on.  That was all I thought about when I spotted the end-cap of Snuggie’s in the store, claiming its rightful place at the throne atop the aisle filled with horrendous As Seen On TV items like Bumpits and the Flowbee.  So I spent the $15.99 for the world’s greatest monstrosity of fur and arms.  And I wrapped it up in tissue paper.  And I gave it to her. 

And now…she wears it ALL THE FUCKING TIME. 

Seriously, this is a girl who adorns her feet with Stuart Weitzman.  Drapes her body in Diane Von Furstenburg. Decorates her wrists and fingers with David Yurman.  And now, because of me, she wraps thousands of dollars in overpriced fashion in a Snuggie.  A SNUGGIE.  She walks across the office, lifting it carefully as if she were Scarlett O’Hara rocking her best hoop gown, letting those Weitzman shoes peek out their new found prison for a glimpse of what life was like before I stole their innocence.

Someone suggested that I take her out behind the building and put her out of her misery. And I considered it, but was faced with a dilemma.  She is so tiny and covered in all that fur, it would be like clubbing a baby seal.   And no one likes people who club seals.  But then again no one likes people who wear Snuggies either. See the dilemma?

What’s more is that I fear I have started a Snuggie pandemic at work that will make the Swine Flu look like the regular flu.  All of those teeny-tiny girls looking for comfort and warmth in the arms of a Snuggie.  Yes, the vaccine is accessible and made up of all the common sense it takes to just bring a sweater to work.  But you know how wary people have become of vaccines these days.  And let’s face it – common sense is not always in ample supply. 

So, all I can do at this point is apologize.  Sincerely.  I bought a Snuggie as a joke and in turn hurt a lot of people.  I am sorry.   And if you want to talk smack about me, I completely understand. Just know that I will hear you.  Because I also bought one of these bad boys that fateful day.  And now, I can hear EVERYTHING.

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30 comments to I did a bad, bad thing.

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