TheBoxFactory: Not only is a box an excellent and unexpected Christmas gift, but it’s also what you put the gift in! #Boxenthusiasts
TheBoxFactory: A Christmas box classic! http://ow.ly/rNgZg
TheBoxFactory: Are you getting excited to find out what Santa has in his box for you?
TheBoxFactory: It is important for Box Factory workers to show up on time for their shifts.
TheBoxFactory: The Ultimate Box: The Box To End All Boxes (as featured in The Hobbit). Don’t forget to add this to your Christmas list! #Boxenthusiasts
TheBoxFactory: Employees of The Box Factory, don’t forget the office Christmas party on Dec. 14!
TheBoxFactory: The fridge in the staff kitchen is disgusting. People need to clean out their own rotting food!!!
TheBoxFactory: This fridge needs to be clean by December 14th!
TheBoxFactory: Life in not like a jar of chocolates, it’s like a BOX of chocolates!! http://ow.ly/rNhxD
TheBoxFactory: Appreciate the excellent work on the fridge! Looks like things will be good to go for our big party tomorrow!! Remember, potluck.
TheBoxFactory: We make the best boxes.
TheBoxFactory: Christmas party tonight!! BYOB!! (Bring your own box! LOL!)
TheBoxFactory: I will be bringing a bucket (I mean box!) of KFC! #MichaelMurrayPartyCentral
TheBoxFactory: Am very disappointed to hear that Manuel will be doing the music tonight. It’s going to be a Christian rock kind of Christmas party. Barf.
TheBoxFactory: Party starts at 5:00 sharp!
TheBoxFactory: The first song that Manuel played was about Jesus and sung by white people. Nobody dancing. Way to go, Manny.
TheBoxFactory: Manuel is a loser who makes shitty boxes.
TheBoxFactory: And wears stupid sweaters.#ReasonsToHateManny
TheBoxFactory: Janice and Sandro just snuck off behind the SBM 86.
TheBoxFactory: I think they’re gonna do it again just like last year.
TheBoxFactory: If you hear somebody yell, “Mother of dragons,” you know that Janice and Sandro are breaking company policy and “God’s law.” #ThingsMannyWouldSay
TheBoxFactory: As a reminder: Company Policy: 9:42: The Box Factory prohibits a dating/sexual relationship between one employee and any other, be they full, part-time or temporary, other than his or her spouse.
TheBoxFactory: If I was DJ this is what would be playing: http://ow.ly/rOA9b #fun
TheBoxFactory: Getting nice buzz on.
TheBoxFactory: Didn’t think I could beat Jelena at arm wrestling, but there you have it!!!
TheBoxFactory: Best party ever. I love you Boxonians!
TheBoxFactory: If anybody wants some dope, Marvin is in the parking lot by the loading bay.
TheBoxFactory: Good shit.
TheBoxFactory: Also, potato salad tastes really weird. Might contain some weird ethnic spice. Be warned!!
(The second half of the party Tweets will appear later)
]]>“Do you have air conditioning?” I asked.
“Dah,” he responded in a blunt, unfriendly East European accent.
“Would you mind turning it on, please?”
“It is expensive for me to run AC, it take more energy, you know? So I keep windows open for breeze, OK?”
“Look, I’m sorry, but I’m dying in this heat, and the regulations say that you have to turn it on if the customer asks for it, right?”
The driver, irritated, snorted.
“What?” I asked, also irritated.
“You are weak, little man who can’t take sunshine?”
“Yes, that’s right. I am a weak, little man who can’t take the sunshine,” I sighed.
The driver pretended to laugh, shook his head and said something in a language that I presumed to be Russian.
“Have it your way, little mister boss.”
He then powered up the windows and contemptuously snapped on the AC.
We drove in black silence for the next five minutes.
I hated his fucking guts.
I hoped his native country got obliterated at the Olympics.
Food poisoning.
Nightmares with toys.
No Internet.
Being dunked-on while playing pick-up.
All these pestilences I wished upon him.
As I sat there concentrating my hatred, I began to pick at my fingernails. This is a habit that manifests when I’m angry, and in this case I managed to peel off several crescents of nails, which I then stored in my pocket. This detritus felt disgusting so I opened the window and tried to throw them out of the car.
The driver, his furious eyes staring at me from the rear-view mirror, shouted, “You demand AC like little dictator and now you put window down! You have no manners in my home! You waste my money, it is now five dollars extra!”
“C’mon, don’t be such a prick, I was just throwing a piece of fingernail out the window. Would you rather I left if on the seat?”
“You are disgusting man.”
“Like you’ve never picked at your fingernails.”
“You know who you are? You are like Gollum from The Hobbit. That is you.”
“That tattoo of a bear you have on the back of your neck looks gay.”
The driver slammed on the brakes.
“Gollum throw body waste out of my car, I throw Gollum out of my car. Get out now or I break you into pieces.”
“Really, are you serious?”
The driver looked at me, his eyes softening.
“Maybe I am not myself. My boy is sick and the doctors say he might lose hearing. It is awful and I cannot sleep, imaging his world without music, and then people like you come in and complain about small, small thing and I blow top. You be quiet and sit still, say nothing and I will take you home, but remember, say nothing!”
