Jenkins Gets the Joke

“Knock knock.”  Old Man McClure said from behind his drink.

The joke portion of the dinner had begun.  Jenkins was displeased.

“Who’s there, sir?” Jenkins asked.  When Old Man McClure had had two or more drinks, the knock knock jokes began to make less sense.

“A livid duck.”

Jenkins had not heard this one before.  Perhaps his boss had learned a new one.

“A livid duck who?” Jenkins followed format.

“A livid duck who can’t open a door.”  Old Man McClure erupted in laughter.

“We have to finish these contracts before market open, sir.” Jenkins tried to refocus the night.

 

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Jenkins Fixes Computers

“Jenkins!” Mr. Sanders shouted from behind his closed office door.

Jenkins, sitting just outside in a cubicle meant for no human to sit in, interpreted the shout to mean, “kid, get in here.”  Jenkins obliged.

“What’s up, Mr. Sanders?” Jenkins asked, peering into the office.

“Fix this.” Sanders pointed at his computer screen.  Jenkins moved to view the screen and sighed.  The problem was instantly identified and easy to fix, and something they had gone over before.

“It happened again, huh?” Jenkins asked.

“No idea how this time,” Sanders explained himself.  Jenkins knew how it happened.  The problem was fixed with a few taps on the keyboard.

“Good work.  Now set a calendar reminder for me to remember to sit down with you to learn how to do these things on my own.” Sanders demanded.

Jenkins shook his head and accepted his role as the office computer fixer, all the while mildly resenting his years of research into workforce retention dynamics and the accompanying $40,000 MBA.

Damage Control

“Folks, we have a problem,” the ever concerned CEO said, leaning over a table and taking the time to carefully catch the eye of every single person around her.

“Oh no! What is it, boss?”

“Tone it down, Jenkins,” the CEO said, pointing a stern finger at the over zealous C-Suite newbie.  “I’ll let Hopkins explain. Take it away, Jim.”

“Thanks, boss,” Hopkins said, rising from his chair and straightening his tie.  “It appears the Perpetually Flaming Hula Hoop of Risky Fun is not as safe as first thought.” Continue reading

The New Desk

Jackson had landed the big promotion.  Old Man Jenkins had finally retired and Jackson was tapped to take on a bigger, much more intimidating role.  He was very ready for the challenge.

With the promotion came a new to him office.  Unfortunately, the office still smelled like Old Man Jenkins; an odd mix of cloves, cinnamon and wet dog.  “Like a scented candle made for people who loved Fear Factor” was often how Jenkins’ aroma was described.  Jackson set out various Febreeze products throughout the office.  The bookcase, the window sills, the small table for one-on-one meetings, the couch, and the drawers of the new desk.

One drawer was less than cooperative when Jackson went to open it.

“Move you little…,” he muttered as the drawer fought him.  The struggle lasted minutes and included such embarrassing moments, the young titan of industry would never speak of it to friends or family.

When it finally flew open, sending the poor lad to the floor where his fist, holding the drawer’s formerly in place handle, collided with his face (another moment that would never be discussed with others), a flurry of papers followed.

Surrounded by yellowed sheets of paper that had not likely been outside of the desk drawer since the Ford presidency, Jackson shook away his wounded pride and perused the documents.

Confusion followed.

“What in the world, Jenkins?” He asked the room.  He waited for an answer for a brief moment, then realized he was alone and made a note to see a doctor about his apparent handle induced head wound.

Maps. Charts. Plans. Names of long dead people. Countries Jackson was pretty sure no longer existed.  All showed up in one piece of paper or another.  He searched for the folder that, knowing how Jenkins operated, certainly held the papers at one point.  “Invasion Plan Delta” read one folder. “Control Contingency Alpha” read another.

“Did you plan to invade small countries for the sake of this company?” Jackson asked, much to his relief he did so rhetorically this time.  The answer, he knew, was absolutely yes.  “I really hope this was a weird hobby and not part of the ‘other duties as assigned’ part of the job description.”