Thursday, January 11, 2007

Tied to our jobs

So I know most of us don't exactly LOVE our jobs... and probably many times we feel like we are chained to our desks for 40 hours a week. But what if you were literally chained to your desk? As in, physically restrained so that you were not able to leave your desk? This is no hypothetical question. The story you are about to read is both sad and true. The names have not been changed because the author enjoys making fun of herself and the antics of her day to day life in hopes that by reading her anecdotes the reader would get a smile on his or her face.

It was a normal Wednesday morning. I woke up late. I showered and sprayed some scrunchy stuff in my hair to avoid having to blow dry it. I arrived to work frazzled and started to go through voice mails and emails. Eventually I started to make some phone calls and noticed that it was rather chilly in my office on this particular morning, so as the phone rang and rang and rang I reached under my desk to turn on my space heater like I had done so many times before.

It was a simple maneuver I had mastered, the squat and reach, my headset on, ready to say "hello" in a flash should the person on the other end of the line answer, and in one deft move turning on the bringer of warmth to oscillate and make my cube nice and cozy. But this morning was not like every other morning. On this morning the scrunchiness of my hair made it highly susceptible to snags. Snags on metal thingies that I had no idea were underneath my desk. Snags that would prevent me from being able to return to a normal sitting position. Snags that would impair my ability to even reach the phone base to hang up. So there I was, my head bowed and parallel to the desk, headset on, phone ringing, the answering machine finally picking up, and I was unable to free myself from whatever I had tangled my hair on. This was quite the predicament.

I started to panic when I realized I couldn't reach buttons on the phone to hang up, and panicked further when I couldn't free myself from the uncomfortable position. I don't know all the details of what happened next- everything is just a blur, but I know I asked timidly for help from Jody, the girl who sits next to me. Surely as a fellow female she would understand the trials and tribulations of hair entanglement and be able to free me safely. But after I called her name with no response I realized in horror that she was on the phone with a customer and unable to hear my pathetic pleas. I turned my head as much as I could to try and get the attention of Todd who sits behind me, but I was unable to contort my body so much without yanking out handfuls of hair.

Suddenly, my friend John came valiantly to my rescue, noticing that I was in pain and hearing my whiney statement of "I'm stuck" to anyone who was listening. I was literally chained to my desk! John quickly pulled the headset from my head and discovered the source of my snag- a metal thingie on the bottom of my desk. His capable hands worked quickly to free my hair without resulting to cutting it out with scissors and I breathed a sigh of relief as I sat upright once again. I thanked him profusely as he pointed out to me the source of my angst so that I could avoid it in the future.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Because now I was free to sit at my desk once again, safely removed from harm's way, but now I was also expected to get back to work.

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

only you. how did you manage to do this? i wish i could have been there to see it

Anonymous said...

Boy that John sounds really amazing! Kinda like a superhero! So calm and collected...yet so strong and true. Weren't you lucky he cared more then that Jody girl and that Todd guy?!

Anonymous said...

no. no, you didn't. you wouldn't. i know you better than that. on another note, enjoy your "evening" tonight and i want details. heart and nuzzle.
~ari

Mary Anna said...

If you had smart co-workers, they would have left you there, proceeded to sell tickets to your debacle, and then gone out for ice cream while you flailed around. Lucky for you, you work with a bunch of dumbasses. ;)

Mark Kelly Hall said...

Sounds like the perfect opportunity for a frivolous lawsuit; first, we go after the company who made the stuff that created the scrunchiness in your hair (was there a warning on the label about this scenario? Didn't think so). Then we nail the people who made the metal thingie. And of course B-B is liable, not only because they assigned you to an unsafe work station, they likely did not do an OSHA-approved seminar to warn you of all its potential hazards. I smell class action!

MamaB said...

So I'm visiting at dads in Indiana and Lisa proceeds to tell me how funny she thinks it is that you got YOU and your hair caught underneath your desk at work. Of course, I had no idea what she was talking about so she had to explain it. It always amazes me that I can go 180 miles from home and one of my sisters can tell me a funny story about one of my daughters who lives nearby!!! What a great story!!