Mr. Eleven: Update.

So... Mr. Eleven's boss has known about the Coke situation for a while. Yesterday he decided to talk to him about it. I had nothing to do with this talk... I was not complaining at work that these Cokes were disappearing. I found it a little funny and sad and rude all at the same time. Sadly this was not the first time he had spoken to Mr. Eleven about replacing what he had taken. The boss wants to teach Mr. Eleven how to get along in the workplace.

Towards the end of the work day Mr. Eleven walked over to my desk. His posture and overall appearance sort of resembled Eeyore. It was slightly awkward. And then the words came out... "Do you know where I can buy some new shoes?" Huh? Really?

I sent him to DSW down the street as a good place to start. This morning there was a six-pack of Coke in the unmagical fridge. It's not twelve... but it's a start. And he had some new shoes.

Clifford & 9er.

Weekend highlights for the 9er:

1. White Sox game. So they lost again... what's new? Classy was in attendance with us, and after the loss we got to watch a fireworks show in sync to a collage of bad butt rock tunes. It was mullet night... and Classy might of found the love of her life (the one in cut off acid wash jorts).

2. New skate shoes. Followed by a beautiful weekend to be on the skateboard rolling around the city.

3. Celebrated Cherry's Birthday Weekend. One word... drunk. Saturday was spent going from one place to the next drinking around the city. Stopped for Taco Bell. Ended up at a party where I proceeded to throw all of the balloons off the balcony onto Chicago Avenue, except for the balloons I put in the elevator.

4. Clifford. It was bound to happen... at some point. I ran into Clifford the Big Red Dog. He was hanging out at the Printers Row Book Fair signing books and doing the photo thing with all of the kids. Printers Row is a fantastic time... if you like books. Good times.

I look fat here and should of been wearing my sunglasses. I'm not fat, or drunk in this photo... really.

The Refigerator.

I don't write about work often... almost never. I always worry that my boss will read it and fire my ass if I bitched about it. So that is why there are very few post about my daily grind here.

The company I work for is not based in Chicago. Since I am the only person in our Chicago office, I share space with another company (the metalheads I've mentioned in previous posts). They are really good people and for the most part they make great office mates... for the most part.

At the office we have a little lunch area with a refrigerator... like most offices do. Nothing special about it. No magical fridge, although it would be way cool to have a magical fridge. Must work on that.

Once in a while I'll go out and buy a box of Cokes and put them in our non-magical refrigerator. I don't drink pop too often at work, but every now and then I get the craving. And why buy one... a twelve pack is only around $3. Funny thing happens... our non-magical fridge does this crazy disappearing act with my pop, sodas, Cokes.

My last purchase was consumed without me consuming one single can of delicious Coke. When I first bought them one person asked for one and I said sure. A few weeks later someone else asked for one which I said of course too (at that point they were more than half gone). Everyone in the office knows they are allowed to take my Cokes, but most people ask anyway which is the polite thing to do. But you would think that they would take the time to buy the next round. Right? I have found out that one office mate had one can, and another office mate had eleven. No one else took any. AND the final four went while I was on vacation. Isn't there some unwritten rule (or maybe it's written) that you should never take someone's last (fill in the blank)?

Mr. Eleven please get off your ass and replace what you so easily took... so we can all share your cans of fizz.

Here is a clue to what went missing.

Signs I Might Be Getting Old.

I eat All-Bran every weekday. I mix it with a cup of yogurt. I always thought you had to be in your fifties to eat All-Bran... but now I found myself consuming tons of it. I remember when I was a reckless twenty-something and use to eats bacon, eggs, bagels, Coco Puffs, Lucky Charms, or Fruit Loops for breakfast. Now it's All-Bran. Maybe that's why I'm grumpy?

Spanks.

I'll get all mushy here and send out a thank you to my readers and posters. Your comments on yesterday's post did me a lot of good. Really. Thanks very much.

And why Britney? When I searched on Google Images for "Thank You" it gave me this photo.

Tomorrow... back to entertaining 5 of 9er. No more mushy.