craveytrain

So today, I was punked. My heart rate is just now slowing down, and it’s been 20 minutes since I was told what the proverbial ‘bitch’ I am. It was owed, cause I helped get my buddy Raj several months ago. He took his time waiting for his opportune moment to strike back and I must commend him. It was a well orchestrated punk that had me going hook, line and sinker.

Well, if you read the blog prior, you would know that I don’t remember a whole lot from the evening of my b-day. I was very, very inebriated. I remember having 8 (ish) Jack and 7s, and I was told I had a few shots of tequila, a couple beers and lord knows what else. And that’s the problem, I don’t know what else. I don’t remember a good portion of the evening and this was my weakness.

I had been hearing stories for the last few days of things I did and said, voice messages I left and comments I had made, none of which were terribly out of character for me. Then my manager and my buddy (coicidentally my immediate manager as of recent) come up and tell me they need to talk. They pull me in the office and start with the “So we got an email from HR, what happened Thursday night?”

“Hell if I can remember”, I respond, wracking my brain to try and remember anything that stood out. This wasn’t the first time I had heard the gestapo name of HR used with mine, as I have a tendency to speak a little more blatantly than some peoples’ feelers can handle. I’m trying hard to remember that evening. What happened, did I expose myself? No, the girlfriend was there, I would have heard about that one. Did I kick someone’s ass? No, again, I would have heard about that one. Did I threaten anyone? Again, out of character, I would have heard about it. Did I make a slur? Hmm… that is not terribly out of character for me, could be. Now, it’s not that I have anything against trailer trash, rednecks, wetbacks, beaners, niggers, spear chuckers, towel heads, camel jockeys, sand niggers, kikes, chinks, gooks, slant eyes, Nupren, faggots, rope suckers, terd burglers, WoPs, YUPPIEs, etc, but I do like to joke.

Hell, Raj and I have a joke going where I harass him about being from a third world country (India), but he started it. One day it’s in the 40s and windy out, and he is walking along without a jacket and shivering. “Why aren’t you wearing a jacket, dumbass?” I ask him. “Cause I’m from a third world country and can’t afford one, thanks for bringing that up”, he snaps back at me. Meanwhile, this guy makes more than I do. And so it started, and let me tell you, that little comment got me in trouble in a meeting one day, but that’s a story for another time. Back to the point.

Then they start asking who was there. Most the usual crew, a couple new faces. So if my character wasn’t out of nature, maybe there was someone there who would be offended my my normal character. Not terribly hard to believe. There was 1 woman that left relatively early, couldn’t be her. I was still relatively sober when she left. Then there were 2 guys that were not part of the regular crew. One is pretty uninhibited in his speech as it is, I just couldn’t imagine he would get offended. The other is a new guy I hadn’t really met before. Hmm… possibly.

So they tell me to go back to my desk, they’ll see what they can find out. I go back to my desk, I can’t concentrate. I am fucking paranoid! I am scanning over the work I’m doing, unable to concentrate. I am almost shaking I’m so nervous. Is the girlfriend on IM? No, crap, she’s in class still. I message a buddy of mine that was there that evening. I ask him to have a chat with me, but not in the office.

We step outside, we disuciss possiblities. We talk about who might have said something. Who might have done something (since all I knew is my name was mentioned, it was never stated I did anything). The one light point is when I make the comment “Well, at least you know it’s a good party if HR gets called”. Kinda like in high school, you know it’s a good party by how many times the police show up. We concede that all we know if there is something going on, and we don’t know what or how severe. Paranoia material.

We come back up to the office and the managers call my buddy into their office. I am at my desk, head racing, trying to figure out who was there. What was done. I am asking another friend what he remembers when the managers come back and call me into their office. They tell me the higher ups are coming over, they’ve heard about it, and I need to wrack my brain. We have to tell them something. We start discussing individuals again, could I have made an inappriopriate comment in my druken stupor? Very good chance of it. Did I mean it if I did? Only as a joke, but that doesn’t matter now. HR is like the IRS, they don’t know jokes, they only know facts. I’ve gone from a pale white to a flushed red. I don’t know what to say or do (which is highly unusual). I’m flustered, confused and at a loss for words or thoughts.

Then it hits, “PUNK’D!”. “FUCKERS!” Everyone was in on it. I can breathe again, but for 20 mins my heart i still racing. Those muthas best watch they back, cause I’m gonna get ‘em.

This entry was posted on Monday, March 1st, 2004 at 4:28 pm and is filed under ramblings. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.