Jake’s Storytime Part 2

Previously on Jake’s Storytime: Jake “I”m Cool” Smythe established himself as an egotistical guy who loves to bowl. We last left him having made the decision that today was the day he would make his crush, Sally, see sense and fall for him.

Jake’s wind was knocked out of sails when he didn’t see Sally behind the counter. How would he make her like him? Everyone else does, why doesn’t she?

Jake sat down at his usual lane – #1 – and began to put on his bowling shoes. As he was slipping into the second shoe he happened to glance up and saw a strike being bowled about 6 lanes over. Jake forgot all about Sally when thoughts of finding a true competitor flooded his brain.

He got up to find out who this fella was that rolled a perfect hook. He wanted to see if the guy was interested in a little friendly throw down. If Jake was truly the best in town, he wanted to prove it.

When Jake arrived at the lane he was surprised to find Sally standing there. Who was she here with? Why wasn’t she working? Was this a date? Where did that guy go? Does she think he is a better bowler than me and that’s why she won’t go out with me?

Jake had never before seen such fury in another person’s eyes when he was finished asking his reasonable and logical questions. Must be typical female hysteria.

But his mouth couldn’t stop from dropping open when she said that it was her that was bowling in this lane and her alone.

A girl threw that hook?! Challenging another guy to a game was one thing; he had never had to challenge a girl. But he knew that was his only option. To be the best you had to beat the best.

Fury in her eyes was replaced by something else, something he couldn’t quite name when he suggested a competition. Whatever it was, she agreed with a handshake.

For every strike Jake threw, Sally would spare and for his every spare, Sally would strike. It came down to the final frame. If Jake turkeyed, he’d win.

He got his first two strikes. He needed just one more. He rubbed down his ball with his towel, let his fingers feel the gentle caress of the fan. With his mind focused, he stood three boards to the left, step, step, arm back, step, forward and release.

It felt like an eternity as the ball rolled down the alley…

finally hooking….

one pin, two, three four five, six, seven eight, nine….

the ten pin was left wobbling wavering back and forth…

and then…

it fell.

Jake had won.

And when he turned to look at Sally she was smiling

It was respect he had seen in her eyes. That he, with that huge chip on his shoulder, would deign to see her as an equal and not some girl he could win over with his charm.

to be continued…

© Lindsay M. Hinkle 2007

The Pods

_bonjour pod listThis is a screenshot of my bonjour availability/mood line resulting from a project at work where a co-worker and I were each in charge of one of the two teams that were assigned to the task. I believe our supervisor came up with the word Pod for each team and my co-worker and I, though thinking it was rather dismissive, ran with it. Each day we came up with a new name for our respective Pods. As the list shows I went the hip hop route. I, unfortunately, to not recall what theme my co-worker went with. A fun way to pass the time. Sorry it is so tiny.

Evolution of an Office

Written for the enjoyment of my co-workers for my last day of work at the job I worked at for 4 3/4 years before deciding to leave. The name of the company has been changed for reasons one usually changes that type of information.

Walking into the Dairy Farm I may shiver from the chill and realize I can’t name everyone on the opposite side of the partition, but when I think back to the spaces that have housed Fake Name Communications, Inc., I’ll take the chill and nameless faces any day– after all there is a seating chart I can look at.

Almost five years ago I walked into the office on my first day and was greeted by Will Smith, Tommy Lee Jones, and Darth Vader. These celebrities turned out to be gatekeepers to a Jungle of tiny red monkeys hanging out not in a barrel but from a canopy of gray wiry cords where the natives flung not their own feces but rubber bands. Amid this chaos I was so inducted into the society of Crack Counters.

Soon the wilds of the Jungle were to be traded in for a shiny new habitat. Unforeseen exile, however, came first. Feeling like vagabonds we pitched our tents in the conference room below our Jungle. In the cramped confines of Camp, this brief period brought together neighboring groups and forced us to share everything.

One day Camp moved to the City of Towering Boxes in the garage of the newly built Tradewinds. It was spacious, gray, and unfriendly. Our group only interacted with former Camp-mates while waiting in line for the one functioning bathroom. We had to build great shields to be used against our new nemesis – the Afternoon Sun. The onset of the Dust Period is little documented, but those who lived through it will never forget.

The opening of bathrooms for both sexes harbingered the Big Move. Excitement mounted as our sun-blinded eyes were ushered into the soothing darkness of the Cave. The shadows promised cooler temperatures and victory over the Sun. Months passed. Our eyes continued to squint, now from the Darkness. The brightest area of the Cave taunted us, showing how time passed – in each time zone. Both the light and heat the Sun provided were missed.

The population of the Cave grew with a new society of Asset Extractors. The leaders of the Cave soon promised yet another home. We questioned this new home’s existence and speculated what perils we would face. We had already experienced the wilds of the Jungle, the unsettledness of Camp, the blindingly bright City, and the dark Cave. Our elders told the Extractors that hoping for better was a fool’s errand.

Those of us who first visited the new dwelling named Dairy Farm did not seem very confident.  There were murmurs of “too much light”, “too much space.” Once we moved, and our eyes adjusted, the Crack Counters and Asset Extractors took to our newest environment. In a matter of weeks we “Cave Dwellers” made the transformation into “Office Employees”.

Four and three-quarter years later I may no longer be greeted daily by movie stars nor know everyone’s name but my eyes are no longer squinting, my coat is rarely worn and like I said before, I can always check the Office seating chart.

© copyright Lindsay M. Hinkle 2011