Sometimes my sense of humor works against me.
Well, I'd say about 8 out of 10 times it does. There's this older lady I work with that I have brief conversations with from time to time. Today she asked me why I was limping. I told her I hurt my ankle when I tried to jump off of a piano and grab a chandelier during bar fight in the Combat Zone. (A section of Boston known for immoral business practices and seedy behavior.)
*sound of crickets chirping*
She looked at me with both horror and bewilderment and kept that expression long after I told her I was only kidding and the real cause of my ailment. I limped away with my tail between my legs while I heard another coworker ask her, "How did he hurt his leg?"
"I'm not sure.", she responded.
Ahhhh, Chris...you witty bastard. That's gonna do your image around the office wonders.
*sound of crickets chirping*
She looked at me with both horror and bewilderment and kept that expression long after I told her I was only kidding and the real cause of my ailment. I limped away with my tail between my legs while I heard another coworker ask her, "How did he hurt his leg?"
"I'm not sure.", she responded.
Ahhhh, Chris...you witty bastard. That's gonna do your image around the office wonders.
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