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“Dude, That is So RACIST!”

January 19, 2011

Harold the Draconian.

“As you know, since the Grand Repopulating of Planet Earth by our gracious and benevolent overlords the Draconians, things have been a little tense around the office.  I ‘get that.’ But Human and Reptilian Resources (HRR) has specifically mandated that all employees are required to attend the new Political Correctness and Sensitivity Training Class this Wednesday… since (insert nervous cough and then air quotes) ‘the Harold incident.'”

“Who was Harold?” I whispered, leaning towards my friend Bill as the meeting continued.

“You know. The guy with the glasses that used to work over in Accounting? Had that really long tail? You shared an office with him for a while.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell. Sorry.”

“HAR-OLD! (Bill paused between syllables for emphasis.) The guy that just had sextuplet-hatchlings a few months ago? How can you possibly not remember him? He invited you to his annual skin-shedding ceremony last year.”

The room grew quieter as people started to glance our way. Bill was not a firm believer in what I like to call “inside-voices” or “subtlety.” I immediately began to look around for the nearest exit but Bill was completely oblivious to our growing audience and continued undeterred.

“Come on, seriously? The guy that drove us to the STRIP CLUB that night we got arrested downtown?

Thanks to Bill’s loud mouth, the attention of every person in the entire conference room was instantly focused upon us. Even the head boss was leaning our way, desperate to overhear our now public conversation. Then I finally remembered Harold.

“Wait? You mean the GREEN guy? Oh yeah! I remember him. Harold. Sure. Why didn’t you just say ‘the green guy?'”

It was at this precise moment that Bill finally realized that all 17 of our coworkers had stopped talking and were blatantly staring at us. This was also the exact same second that Bill shrewdly calculated that he only had one way to survive this burgeoning office-gossip disaster.

W. T. F. ?” exclaimed Bill. (He actually said the letters instead of the words. I hate that.)  “Seriously? Dude, that is so RACIST!” Then Bill strode angrily for the door, slamming it shut on his way out.

Well played Bill. Well played.

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