Tuesday, December 27, 2005

Earlybird Special - Two Please

Isn't it sad when older people can't get a grip on how much water their bridge has been over and just deal with it?

Mr. Zoom and I made an especially grand showing of just how ungraceful we are with aging today. At the office.

We arrived today to find a brand new employee at the firm. He works in our office services department - which means he has to walk the floors all day and deliver stuff. It's one of the few positions that pretty much guarantees you will meet everyone in the office.

This kid, honest-to-goodness, looks like he's 12.

Mr. Zoom: "Did his mommy drop him off here?"

Me: "I wonder if Santa brought him that tie that he's wearing?"

Mr. Zoom: "Does management know we are in violation of child labor laws?"

Me: "If he gets nap time, I'm going straight to management with a complaint."

Mr. Zoom: "Does he even know where the bike locks are?"

The laughing stopped when I learned he just turned 21. 21!! What's next? I guess I'll know it's time to go buy myself a Lark* when I start mistaking 45 year olds for 30?

And then on the way home tonight, Mr. Zoom turned on one of the features in his car that we haven't used before. It has ... I can barely say it with a straight face ...

heated seats.

Why would anyone want that? I would guess people who live in really cold places would. I think it just came on the car, it wasn't like Mr. Zoom wanted it special.

Tonight it was damn cold. Cold as in, California cold. Like 60 degrees. So he clicked on my bun warmer. After a while I said "Ok, that's enough. We can turn that off now. That kinda feels like I peed my pants."

*Lark = I don't know if this item is known everywhere, but it's a motor scooter that is typically advertised as a tool for older people to get around with.


Al said...

I'm tellin'ya, the "not old enough to reach the pedals" thing is spreading. These young whipersnapers are everywhere. With all the time off I had in Nov. & Dec., the Mrs. had me run lots of errands that had me in stores when I would normally be at work. I discovered a whole new type of people. I call them 10 o'clockers. They are the people that don't really have to do anything until 10am. We don't see them unless for some reason they get up early and decide to drive slow if front of us when we are try to gt to work. In the grocery they chit-chat with the checkout people. At the department store, they ask 200 questions about an item they are just "looking at". You know them.. Well a couple of weeks ago, I ran into a group of 4 or 5 of these women in their lark/hoveround things, tearing through the mall like Brando in Rebel WIthout a Cause. I was truely scared for my life

AndyT13 said...

Yikes! That's all I can say about THAT!

Ryan said...

I know. It does sort of feel like you peed your pants...Mmmmmmmmm, yeah. :)

Oh, don't mind me. I feel like I took an upper today or something.

theresa said...

The whole aging thing doesn't happen gradually. I think most of us ignore and deny it until something like what happened to you occurs, and then it feels like a big kick up side your head. "WHAM, You're gettin' old!"

Rev. Brandy said...

Before I switched jobs, one of the guys on my team was 21. Working for me was his first job out of college. I realized that there is absolutely no point in trying to be even remotely serious about establishing best workplace practices when "kids" these days are raised on the movie "Office Space." They THINK that's the way it is.

And it is, that way, actually, so I just gave up trying to get him to improve his attitude, checking his email, or participating in meetings. I always just ended up saying, "I need you to go ahead and [insert something]," which made me feel like the manager in the movie, anyway.


Al said...

Hey zoomer -
Sending out happy new years wishes for you and the mr. Hope this doesn't make the grrom jealous - but here's a New Years Kiss.
You both be good and stay safe

Aisha T. said...

Oh yeah....the young whippersnappers taking over. Every new person that works here is a baby. Even my direct manager is about eight years younger than me. Scary!

Guess it's time to turn in the rollerblades for a Lark. Had no idea that's what those things were called.