“Gotta go report another break-in at the impound,” John my co-worker said.

“Being that we currently got an 80 year old security guy guarding the place, I’m not too surprised. What’d they take now?”

“Copper.”

I looked up. “What?”

“They boosted copper from some of the cables that used to power the old buildings we don’t use anymore.”

“Who the hell steals copper?? We have like $50,000 cars just sitting there waiting to be driven out, and they go for copper?”

“Hey, it sells. And they took their sweet time too. We found where they broke in, along with a cooler and some empty beer cans they left behind. I think they’re gonna be coming back tonight.”

“So are you gonna go stake ‘em out?”

“Nope, denied overtime.”

“Frickin’ A’.”

“They’ll send a patrol to drive by every now and then.”

I leaned back in my seat. “You know, I never would have figured to boost copper in an impound lot. I’d go in there and go, “Oooooo, motorbikes!” then drive out with one of those babies. Who would think to steal copper?”

“Hey, three dollars a pound baby.”

“Besides you, smart ass.”

John just shrugged.

One thing about the media, when it comes to covering a story they obviously feel they can park anywhere they damn well please. I showed up to work today seeing my usual parking spaces taken up by several news vans, some of which were even double parked. Idiots.

I walked up to the building and noticed they were having a major press conference right outside the front entrance. Naturally, being the serious professional that I am, I started making faces at the cameras as I walked by. I heard a few snickers and quickly went inside before the spokesman had a chance to turn around and see who had just disrupted his live conference.

Fun day.

“Yo Linc! We just got a BOLO for a guy who’s White, Black, Asian, Hispanic and Indian.”

I snickered.

“No, seriously, we really got a BOLO for a guy who’s White, Black, Asian, Hispanic and Indian.” He showed me the printout.

“What the f-”

“Is that not messed up?”

“So… he’s a multicultural fugitive?” I rolled my eyes.

Sheesh, this job sometimes…

My boss had been playing games with me for the better part of a month now, from denying my proposed work schedule so I couldn’t attend law school, to threatening me over my request for accommodations because of my hearing disability. Naturally there have been days when I wished a meteor would land on his head (and those were the times when I was actually in a good mood too.)

For the past week he’s been AWOL as a result of training in another section for “overtime,” perfectly understandable to me given his 6 figure salary and his evidently pressing need to pay off his yacht and summer home. Poor guy. One particular night he left in a hurry without signing off his computer, and being the fine, upstanding person that I was, I did the only thing I could think of.

I fired up his inbox and quickly started rummaging through his emails and folders.

I could practically hear the digital clock from 24 thunderously ticking away in the background as I furiously performed a search query of all his emails, hoping to find something, ANYTHING, to give me an idea of what he might have been planning against me. I kept one eye on the doorway the whole time too, half scared to death that he would walk in on me at any moment, but I bravely (or maybe recklessly) pressed on.

Nothing.

I didn’t even show up on this guy’s radar. There were no emails about me, not even anything juicy about our division, even though everything in our section was falling to crap ever since he took over. Great, only in the movies can a guy pull a stunt like I did and be rewarded with some juicy intel, like finding out who REALLY killed JFK. @#$%!

I did find out that he was having an affair though. I guess that’s something.

There’s a supervisor at my workplace I’ll refer to as “Bossy Blonde,” who has a tendency to stick her nose where it didn’t belong. Usually that meant monitoring what I was doing at my desk even though she wasn’t my boss, and despite the fact that I was working in a division completely unrelated to hers.

I knew she’d be working here tonight, so I began to explore my options. Where could I go to enjoy some privacy (and check my blogging stats) without her peeking in on me? We had an office with a very nice desk and PC that could have been an ideal solution for me, but it got locked up at the end of the day. Not one to give up so easily though, I decided to use the credit card tips I found at Lifehacker today, and tried to jimmy the door open with one of my library cards.

“Frick frick frick! Why can’t these doors ever open up easily like they do in the movies???”

After a few minutes of twisting and prying, nervously keeping an eye out for anyone who might walk in on me, I finally gave up. Ok, this wasn’t gonna work.

I continued to scout my territory, and eventually settled on a nice little corner desk I found hidden out of view by a maze of cubicle walls. It was the perfect spot to hide out for a few hours until I could finally go home.

I settled in, sighing contentedly as I happily logged on and checked my emails.

“Hey Linc! Whatchya doing here??” It was the boss of the section I was hiding in.

“Oh hey!!!!!!!!” I said, wincing as my thumping heart cracked a few ribs, “I’m just umm, hanging out here for my um, meal break, that way nobody bothers me.”

“Oh, ok.” He looked at me with a little uncertainty, then picked up his keys and left.

I looked at the time. Still another 50 minutes to go.

“@#$%,” I muttered. The search for my quiet place continues.

Overheard at work today:

“Ohh, Linkie! Remember when you were telling me there were two prices for a car, the manufacturer’s price, and what was the other one, I couldn’t remember?”

“Uhh, the invoice?”

“Yeah yeah, that’s it! I need to get a new car and I just fell in love with this Nissan Murano I saw at the dealership. It’s fully loaded for $38,000, but I wasn’t sure if that’s how much I had to pay, or if I could get it for less.”

“Wow, that’s some serious coinage.”

“Oh yeah, but I got enough in my bank now to buy it!!”

“Must be nice to have an ex-husband,” I muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing, ” I quickly said.