* BIG CHANGE *

Overheard is moving! I started a blog at thirtyxthirty.blogspot.com which is getting a lot more attention from me these days. I'll continue (um, resume) posting funny Overheards on that site. See you there!

Funny for DC

Overheard:

Man I shared a cab with in Chicago: "Where do you work?"
Me: "Homeland Security"
Him: "Are you on the Glomar Commission?"
Me: "I can neither confirm nor deny."

I won't bore you with the details:

You can read this if you want to. The last paragraph before the statistics is the relevant portion. I was just proud of myself that I retorted in stride. I'm becoming more of a DC tool every day.

This is how rumors get started.

Overheard:

"I have to go pick up my daughter -- we have lawn seats."

"Your daughter is pregnant?!?!?"

[Silence. Confused pause.]

"What? No, we have lawn seats for the concert we were just talking about."

Who:

Hallway chatters at work

I don't even know how she could have stated things more clearly:

When you make casual statements, such as those pertaining to summertime concerts*, you make basic assumptions, for example, "The person I am talking to can hear me." You know what happens when you assume.


* YES, I know, it took me a while to post.

Bugged at Work

Overheard:

"Most people get bagel crumbs in their keyboards... but not Becky!"

Who:

My former officemate in the aforementioned prime RRB real estate.

What did I get what did I get??

A ladybug.

I seriously have no idea where it came from*, and it was the first bug** I've actually seen at work.

Luckily, after a long college and law school career of having had every computer problem known to man***, including having worn off the letters on my keys with my nails after two months of typing, I was able to snap off the keys and set Lady free. Anticlimactically, she**** flew to the doorway and settled in by the lightswitch plate. And that's really as much detail as I have on this situation.


* I know, it probably was on my obnoxiously huge work bag.

** Insert "Homeland Security bugs their offices" joke or fear here.

*** However, in my day, we didn't have "spyware." We had viruses, and we LIKED it.

**** Because, all lady bugs are obviously female.

Paging Captain Obvious

Overheard:

"Only in D.C.!"

In reference to:

an advertising campaign that graced* the walls of many D.C. metro stations this summer. The campaign was a tourism drive for West Virginia, or should I say, West Virginia Wild and Wonderful.**

The ad pictured some sort of very very messy outdoor adventure activity or sport*** and the text, "More dirty laundry than a judicial nominee."

The campaign was targeted, as one might expect, towards D.C. commuters, or at least D.C. tourists who understood that they were, in fact, currently in the bowels of the capital. This touron, apparently, just got a kick out of this snappy campaign. I can see her over Thanksgiving with her extended family, recounting her trip to Washington... [fade to St. Louis] "And we rode on the 'Metro'**** and there was this ad that you would only see in Washington! About the government!"

* And by "graced," I mean, "plastered."

** Because after this ad campaign, I know I don't think of "West Virginia" without thinking "Man, W. Va. is Wild AND Wonderful."

*** You know, just something CRAZY that people do only in West Virginia.

**** Note, in all likelihood, that she will not mention the fact that commuters cursed her every hesitation while walking in crowded areas, and she will not be able to tell her family, "They walk on the left, stand on the right, and step out of the train to let people by and then YOU CAN GET BACK IN." Because she still won't have picked up on these things.

Easy as One, Two, Two

Overheard:

"Did you say A or B?"

"I said [unintelligible]! As in A, B, C!"

Clear as Mud:

I recently lost some prime real estate near the women's restroom on the 4th floor of RRB, and was relocated to less-prime real estate. The novelty of my new 3.5 half-walls still distracts me, so it hasn't sunk in yet that I have been assimilated.* Logistics has kept itself occupied with rearranging the deck chairs, and they have been surprisingly efficient at it.

This gem was Overheard when I had just moved in to my new cube (4.4-74, if you were waiting to send my Cubewarming present**). The half-wall nature of the office will likely afford me all the opportunity to catch many such gems. Here, Logistics Mover radio'd Logistics Centcom Operator*** to ask where he was supposed to move some large heavy widget he'd been carting around the building. I blame this miscommunication on the architect of the RRB****, who in his***** Infinite Wisdom apparently decided that room numbers were Out and totally lame, and room numbers carried out to a decimal PLUS room letters PLUS two punctuation marks****** were the wave of the future. I did not make any of that up.

In any case, Logistics Mover did not know whether to take his haul to office Something Point Something Dash A or Something Point Something Dash B. Logistics Mover and Logistics Centcom Operator both spoke with very thick accents, and I felt significant sympathy frustration for Logistics Mover. He sounded more confused, while Operator sounded angry. This particular incarnation of the exchange was Mover's fifth attempt at clarification. I know of no resolution to this matter.

This is another situation where, I wonder, how some things get done in the government.

* At least I didn't drink the Kool-Aid.

** Thanks for the magnets, Mom!

*** The best part of all of this is that at least they weren't using SprinttogetherwithNextel Push-to-Talk.

**** No doubt a direct descendant of L'Enfant himself.

***** Clearly this building was not designed by a woman.

****** And here I thought the beauty of numbers was that there were always enough to go around.

Real World: RRB 4.4-B

Overheard:

"I can barely handle sandwiches."

Oh, Erica:

You know how when you get to know people well, they stop being polite and start getting real? Or, at least, quirky? Yeah. I was expressing to a group of co-workers that I didn't like eating chicken wings,* because it necessarily entails putting bones and tendons and other really gross stuff in your mouth and chewing on it, with very little result. Really, I'm gagging just typing about it.

Nothing has polarized people I categorize in large part as "normal eaters" than chicken on the bone. Now-former-coworker Erica chimed in, and backed me up. She doesn't like eating meat on the bone either. But then she jumped. She revealed that, more uniquely, she doesn't like "eating things bigger than your mouth, you know?" Sure. She doesn't like biting. We've all got our quirks.

* It was in context, I swear.

Wait, what did I Overhear?

Overheard:

"Hey, have you watched that CNN special on memory yet?"

"No, I keep forgetting."

Why, Tivo, WHY???:

Usually Tivo and I get along, but I guess I thought I'd finish watching the Paging Dr. Gupta Prime Time Special before Tivo naturally decided it was time for me to move on. But I didn't. Luckily, a slightly-more-difficult-search-than-it-should-have-been through CNN's transcripts revealed a text version. I haven't read it yet though. But now I have an easy link to it, so hopefully it will happen soon. Someone remind me.

Pocket full of ... white chocolate... (ew, gooey!)

Overheard:

"It's like someone told Superman, "Hey! There's this red kryptonite that makes you stronger!"

Who and What:

Alex, to me and my officemate, on WHITE chocolate. Which, we've all been informed, is not *actually* chocolate, it's just sugar. Alex is allergic to cocoa. Poor guy. But the recent surge in white-chocolate-coated stuff all but nullifies the allergy. Studies of Hershey's website* reveal that White KitKats and White Reese's PB Cups are here to stay. White Hershey Bars with Almonds are limited edition, but it looks like the white chocolate craze may not be as short-lived as Hawaiian Punch's Rainbow-of-Punch attempt.**

* The yummiest study of all times.

** Um, whoops, that's apparently still a craze, somewhere. Click through that link, and look past the creepiness, to "Product Info," "Product Line." I have no idea where they sell six colors of Hawaiian Punch, both in 20-oz bottles and 2-liter bottles, but it's not where I live. Who needs six colors of Hawaiian Punch?? Thinking about it, they are probably sold at Indiana Wal-Marts, officially the last place in the world I can locate my hair mousse, Salon Selectives "Get in Shape."

Seriously, take it down a notch.

Overheard:

"WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-
OOOWWwwwwwwwwwwwwwww-
wwwwwwwwww!"

Who:

A tourist to Our Nation's Capital. I will now introduce the word "Touron" to Overheard.* A Touron is a cross between a Tourist and a Moron. Maybe a Tourist has never been to DC before, but a Touron (a) has never seen a map before, (b) has never crossed a street before, (c) has never eaten in a food court before, (d) has never ridden on any form of public transportation before, and (e) finds the need to wear a fanny pack.**

You may note by now that my walk to work usually takes me in front of the White House.*** Pennsylvania Avenue between 15th and 17th Streets, NW, was re-opened in November of 2004 for pedestrians only, for the first time since the Oklahoma City bombings, when suddenly it hit everyone that important buildings accessible to the masses might not be the best idea.

In any case, the New Pennsylvania Avenue is built with some safegaurds, and has "retractable bollards" to stop cars from driving through. When a secure vehicle approaches, however, such as a Secret Service or Federal Protective Service SUV, the bollards lower into the ground and raise again after the vehicle has cleared through. The bollards are approximately three feet high and 8-12 inches in diameter.

On this occasion, a Touron stood and watched as the bollards lowered, two FPS SUVs passed through, and the bollards resurfaced. She filmed the entire thing on a digital video recorder. When the most significant event in the Touron's life had been completed, she turned, and to no one in particular, exclaimed the above. Perhaps not the best "Overheard" because I may not be able to portray exactly her level exctitement, or the ridiculousness of the entire situation.

Maybe I've been in DC too long, but I know that some things are genuinely exciting. Two SUVs -- carrying only one driver and no passengers in each, with no particularly notable add-ons such as large antennas, strobes, or even unique license plates -- just don't do it for me. Cheers to the Touron though. Hope you bought some great stuff.

* I give credit for my introduction to this term to Pam, of Pool Guppy fame, infra.

** I know you may be away from your hotel for an entire day, but really, how does a fanny pack help this situation?

*** I feel as if the First Duck left too soon. I miss you, baby. And I bet you miss the publicity, living somewhere in Upper Northwest, just a duck among ducks.

Let the children learn

Overheard:

"I'm telling you, I'm going to take those cameras AWAY!"

Who:

Chaperone for an Eighth-Grade Field Trip (EGFT) to Our Nation's Capital. With such words I have confidence that she effectively squashed any interest the 13-year old guys she was yelling at had in history, politics, fun, and the interaction of those three.

Commentary:

You know, it's hard enough to get a 13-year old guy interested in anything of substance.* On my walk home from work this day through Lafayette Square in front of the White House, I happened upon an EGFT.** Four such above-referenced guys were quickly taking pictures of each other in front of a large statue that's directly in front of the White House, trying to stay in line with their class while taking the pictures. I could see them looking back on those pictures in 10 years and laughing at how silly they were being, and how hot and muggy that damn trip was, but remembering maybe one or two fun details from each scene.*** The Chaperone, however, would have NONE of that. There would ONLY be group pictures, in front of pre-selected monuments and sights. I told the boys in a stern voice that there would be NO fun on this trip. They rolled their eyes with me and slumped off.

I hope they took as many pictures as they wanted. Their Chaperone had it really, really good if that's the biggest thing she had to worry about.


* Not that they grow up that quickly after that.

** It had been a full 15 steps since I happened upon the last EGFT, so timing was about right.

*** When I meet someone new and tell them I live in DC, they usually perk up and say they've been there... but not in a long time. I suggest, perhaps, that the lsat time was an EGFT. It is, by and large, always true.

Buffy the Pool Guppy

Overheard:

"Are you a Summer Associate?"

"How could you tell?? I'm that bad at pool??"

Response in my head:

No Sweetie, you look young, impressionable, and misdirected.

Circumstances:

I was recently at Buffalo Billiards for Happy Hour with former co-workers (also government lawyers). The large, stereotypical group next to us was a gaggle of young law firm attorneys and their proteges, making the best of their open tab AND open appetizer bar AND open pool at prime BB hours.*

I WISH I would have overheard someone say "Hey, why are all the guys dressed like lawyers and the girls dressed in jeans and/or** as skanks?" But, we all restrained ourselves. Instead, my friend Pam reached out to a young (if misdirected) girl who we affectionately*** referred to as Buffy, and asked if she was a Summer Associate. Because, she REEKED of Summer Associate****. And, she looked a bit like Sarah Michelle Gellar.

She responded with the above Overheard gem. I don't even know what she was thinking. Are lawyers inherently good at pool? Not in my experience. It's kinda cute that maybe she thought that other than a bad pool shot, she looked like a law firm lawyer -- in her jeans, t-shirt, flip flops, and really really really big smile.



* I sincerely hope our Intern is finding that though he does not have the same amenities this summer with our governemnt office, that... oh never mind. ACE.

** A quasi-grammatical construction that I hate, "and/or" oddly seems appropriate here.

*** Behind her back.

**** It just occured to me know that maybe not all 4 of my readers know what a Summer Associate is. A Summer Associate is a variation on a law student, where for 10 weeks that person is paid approximately $2500/week, for doing basic paralegal research and eating a LOT. I took my turn as a Summer Associate, and on one (magical, magical) day, I spent 7 hours at restaurants, 1.5 hours walking off my discomfort in between restaurants and shopping for a dress with the Summer Associate Coordinator, and 2.5 hours billing. It was, as I stated, magical. And, obnoxious.

But how do I know when I should be asking more questions?

Overheard:

"Last night, we had a fundraiser for the monk that teaches my meditation class."

Where?:

On my way in to work earlier this month.

Scam / Not a Scam?:

Place your bets.

Queenpin

Overheard:

"I took bowling in college. Twice."

Who:

My friend Annemarie.

Where:

Our friend Christina's surprise bowling party, at a now-closed alley off 395.*

Suspicious Circumstances?

Minorly suspect. Annemarie attended Oregon State University, where apparently she was a few credits shy. Unlike my alma mater**, where I thought I had found the sweetest deal there was***, OSU appears to teach agility, strength, hand-eye coordination, fashion, and more in the same course. Here are other "Physical Action Courses" they offer. Annemarie did not specify if she took Bowling I and Bowling II, or if they allow repeats for credit. I mean, really, Bowling II.


* This article is unrelated, but a thinker.
** Go Cats!
*** My final involved a clipboard, a t-shirt, and iron-on song lyrics.