My friend Kent called me yesterday. This was how the conversation went:
Me: "Hey you!"
Kent: "Riddle me this, K - on what day did a car catch fire and explode in the Delmar parking garage?"
Me: "Um, today?"
Kent: "Oh. My. God. 10 Monkeys."
You might be asking, what the hell is 10 Monkeys? We all know what 12 Monkeys is, that fine film with Brad Pitt sporting a kooky eyeball. But 10 Monkeys? Let me explain...
When Kent and I worked together, he and I came up with a rating system to describe situations that were spiraling, or already, out of control. Things like
- a teacher who came into the office one Friday morning wearing a prom dress (she's 30), last nights makeup and hairdo somewhat intact, smelling like granny powder.
- Our crazy boss's flat, square toes
- Our crazy boss's penchant for American Spirits on the fire escape, bitching about any one of her three employees, former one's also.
- Our crazy boss's "no time off for lunch" policy (Heil...)
Our system went something like this:
1 Monkey - weird, this doesn't seem normal, does it?
2 Monkeys - is this really happening?
3 Monkeys - Seriously now, when is this going to stop?
4 Monkeys - I think there needs to be an intervention...soon.
5 Monkeys - Um, this person's ten cents short of a dime.
6 Monkeys - Batshit - completely batshit.
7 Monkeys - Maybe we should lock our doors and put the phones on DND or call the authorities?
8 Monkeys - It's El Maguey time...bring on the extra large margarita. Two straws.
9 Monkeys - Oh. My. God.
10 Monkeys - I'm leaving. Now. You'll never see me again.
Shenanigans - an out-of-control situation beyond description. Call for a DQ cake with random themes and misspellings. Preferably chocolate.
The situation at the parking garage qualified as a 10 Monkey. If the exploding car had been Kent's, it would have been a definite Shenanigans.
Kent got home okay, but he smelled like he'd been standing in a bbq pit all afternoon.
I miss Kent. I've never laughed so much at work, every day. Didn't before, haven't since.
