I was working in an old office building that housed doctors offices/clinics at Indiana University Medical Center. My office was a tiny cubby with a window, an ancient desk, and a sink that made me think it was originally intended to be an exam room.
One morning I came to work, placed my sack lunch on my desk, next to a ripe, juicy tomato from my parents' garden. Someone called my name, and I exited my office, only to return in about five minutes to find a little bite chomped out of my tomato.
"Uh, I think there's been a mouse in here." I stated. I was told what number to call for maintenance to come out and trap the little tomato thief. I threw the tomato away, stashed my lunch in a safer location and went to work pulling charts, etc. My boss, a physician, came in with someone he wanted to talk to privately in his office, notified me not to disturb them, and closed his office door. Fine. I turned on my IBM selectric typewriter, the kind with the ball that bounces around typing letters. I started to type, but the little ball won't move. I poked it with a finger to see what's wrong, and A MOUSE JUMPED OUT OF MY TYPEWRITER, WANDERED ACROSS THE DESK, AND HID UNDER A BOOKHOLDER AT THE BACK OF THE DESK!
I don't remember how I got out of the office. I do remember running down the hall screaming for my boss, who, all semblance of a private conference gone, went into my office and stomped the mouse to death. Poor man hated mice and could hardly stand the thought of them, but he rescued his secretary just the same. Must've wanted those letters typed really bad that morning!
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Watered Garden
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away......
I was working in an old office building that housed doctors offices/clinics at Indiana University Medical Center. My office was a tiny cubby with a window, an ancient desk, and a sink that made me think it was originally intended to be an exam room.
One morning I came to work, placed my sack lunch on my desk, next to a ripe, juicy tomato from my parents' garden. Someone called my name, and I exited my office, only to return in about five minutes to find a little bite chomped out of my tomato.
"Uh, I think there's been a mouse in here." I stated. I was told what number to call for maintenance to come out and trap the little tomato thief. I threw the tomato away, stashed my lunch in a safer location and went to work pulling charts, etc. My boss, a physician, came in with someone he wanted to talk to privately in his office, notified me not to disturb them, and closed his office door. Fine. I turned on my IBM selectric typewriter, the kind with the ball that bounces around typing letters. I started to type, but the little ball won't move. I poked it with a finger to see what's wrong, and A MOUSE JUMPED OUT OF MY TYPEWRITER, WANDERED ACROSS THE DESK, AND HID UNDER A BOOKHOLDER AT THE BACK OF THE DESK!
I don't remember how I got out of the office. I do remember running down the hall screaming for my boss, who, all semblance of a private conference gone, went into my office and stomped the mouse to death. Poor man hated mice and could hardly stand the thought of them, but he rescued his secretary just the same. Must've wanted those letters typed really bad that morning!
WG
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