Wrong Place Wrong Time Wrong Pen

I was trying to get a document served. I was working at the copy station, and I reached for a pen that was among probably 150 other pens - living in the Giant Bucket of Pens. These seem to be the community pens, the orphans, the abandoned and chewed upon. Normally I bring a pen with me from my desk. Not because I thought about it - it's just one of those habits.

Like when Mr. Zoom is driving us somewhere and I've got my own car keys in my hand. Even after I've gotten in the passenger side of his car.

I was busy putting together labels for the service when I noticed big blue fingerprints all over the proofs. The pen didn't even have the decency to stop gushing ink when I began looking for the source of the blue. I had grabbed the one pen in the Giant Bucket that had hemo-inka-philia .


I threw it away and then realized I should probably try and wash the ink off before it set in. All I could hear was my mother's voice scolding me for drawing on myself. Sure, not the same as taking a pen to your arms and legs when you are bored and 11 years old, but no matter. The same impulse that makes me hold my car keys even when I don't need them is the same one that is tuned into my mother's lecture frequency. Like satellite radio. She's in between the stations.

I went for the small kitchen on our floor that is close to the copy center. There's a sink and always soap in there.

Unfortunately there's also coffee in there. One of our Big Deal Partners was in there getting some coffee when I came barging in with my hands in the air like I'd been scrubbed up for surgery. I turned on the hot water and went right for the soap. I used lots of soap. I scrubbed long and hard. So much so that the hot water got very very hot and I hadn't been paying attention.

I mindlessly stuck my hands in the water to rinse. Before I knew what happened I realized I'd jerked them out of the water and shot HOT, SOAPY, INKY WATER all over one of our Big Deal Partners - and the room.

OMG.

I apologized and flailed. I Chevy Chase'd my way through the rinsing process and started handing out paper towels. Luckily whatever suit he was wearing was dark. He got away annoyed, but as far as I can tell, un-inked.

And it didn't budge the ink at all. It took two days of showering for it to finally disappear.