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.

The Lunch Bag Note

“Ah, did you get a note from your mom?” Eriq asked.

Tyson was caught off guard.  He and Eriq had been eating lunch together for years, but this was apparently the first time the customary lunch had been noticed.

“Yeah, my mom has been leaving me notes in my lunch box since kindergarten,” Tyson explained.

“That’s actually pretty cute,” Eriq admitted.

“It used to be.  The notes were once ‘I love you! Have a great day!’ kinda stuff.” Tyson said, beginning to read over today’s note.

“What are they now?”

“Well, at some point she started posting them to Insta and her followers started sharing the…the ones that are really, really weird for the most part,” Tyson said.

“Your mom’s Insta famous?” Eriq was confounded.

“In a way.  Here’s today’s note; ‘the arachnid king of Neptune only eats the weak.’ Followed by a picture of a spider wearing a crown eating a butterfly.”

“That’s gibberish.”

“It has 6,000 likes.” Tyson said through a sigh.

Rico and the Long Awaited Exciting Afternoon

Chores. Rico hated chores.  Errand running, groceries, laundry; the routine tasks that form the very foundation of the society he so enjoyed otherwise.  He hated them.  Every outing for electrical tape, every time he cleaned out the cat’s litter box, he wished for something exciting to happen.  Anything to make the time move a little faster.

Returning from a particularly bland run to the barber, he found himself standing at the entry way of his apartment complex checking every pocket on his person for keys.

“Drat,” Rico muttered as he patted down his pants and jacket.

“Rico!” Called the familiar voice of his neighbor, Jon.  “Rico, wait up.”

The relief Rico felt in having something out of the ordinary happen, finally, was delightful.  He ran a hand through his freshly cut hair and forgot for just a moment about his key problem.

“Jon! How are things, man?” Rico asked.  He extended a hand in anticipation of a high five.

Jon followed form, extending his hand as well, but Rico noticed something odd.

“What’s that in your ha-” Rico said.

His words were cut short by a blast of purple spray paint from Jon’s previously unknown object.  Three more sprays followed.

“Jon! What the heck, man?” Rico was furious.

“This Facebook post told me to tag my friends!” Jon said.

“Aw. Jon, you consider us friends? That’s awesome, buddy. Thanks.” Rico was oddly touched, if looking like a tropical fish.

“Well, Facebook friends anyway,” Jon clarified.

Trust Fall

“Jenkins!” Mr. Hopper shouted.

With a single word, Jenkins knew the command.  He stepped away from his coworkers and stepped to within arms’ reach of their increasingly grumpy boss.

“For this team building exercise, which I remind you is mandated by corporate and will only take a full six hours of productivity away from our team, you will trust me to catch you as you fall to the earth,” Mr. Hopper told Jenkins and the crowd.

Jenkins did not trust Mr. Hopper.  Mostly due to the mischievous smirk that crawled over Hopper’s face when he said, “as you fall to the earth.”

“Sir, does this have to happen right here? Can we move even ten feet that way?” Jenkins requested, pointing away from the pit immediately behind his boss.

“This is why they call it a trust fall, Jenkins.  Trust me, my leadership, and you have nothing to fear,” Hopper held his arms out to signal the fall would happen. Now.

Jenkins winced and readied to fall dozens of feet into a former quarry now over run, at the bottom at least, by grasses and plague carrying mice.

He was not disappointed.

In the distance he could hear Hopper describing the next team building activity.

“Crew, our goal is to work together to get that accountant free.  Who’s with me?”

Uninspiring

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“You know, you say, ‘fine’, but what I think you really mean is, ‘a spire of volcanic rock just spewed out of the ocean and cooled before our eyes and I have my doubts the boat can turn fast enough.’  Is that what you mean by, ‘we’re fine?'” Allan asked.

The captain, beard waving in the ocean breeze, body moving up and down with the roll of the waves, narrowed his eyes and raised his looking glass, brushing aside Allan’s concerns.

“I’ve seen much worse,” the captain assured the young man.

“When?” Allan protested.

“We’re probably fine,” The captain corrected.

Just Pictures

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via Pixabay

“Pictures.  They’re just pictures.  You know what people can do with Photoshop these days? Come on. No one will believe they’re real.”

“Reality is constructed, built upon that which people see.  If it can be seen, it can be believed.  Right now, even the possibility that something can be seen builds reality for some.”

“Dave, come on, man. Look, look, I’ll delete the files.”

“You know what people can do with cloud storage these days?”

“Nah, no, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“You saw too much, Marcus.”

“Dave!”

“I am sorry for this. You were a good photographer.”

People on the Highway

With the book promotion (free book right here!) going on, I thought perhaps now is time to get back into the series that started it all.  Ah, nostalgia.

I took a new job about six months ago.  No longer working from home, I have taken to a regular commute.  I’m only on the road for thirty to forty minutes in the morning, but rejoining the commuter lifestyle has been incredibly odd.  That is in part because I am on the road at 5:00 in the morning.

5am is a totally different beast than 7am.

Most notably, car accidents are different at 5am.

Today’s tale: Dude, where’s my bumper? Continue reading