You know that show scrubs, yes of course you do, little sit com about a hospital. Death and medical tragedy have never been funnier. Anyway, there’s one particular character from the show that I can draw a direct reference to in my own work environment. No it’s not Cox, I wish it was Cox. It’s the damn janitor. And I swear I think the entire canteen staff is my own personal tormenting janitor.
Sure they’re real cool about it; they don’t actually make fun of me or harass me in obvious ways. It’s all a bit more subtle really, it’s all very ‘I just forgot your coffee and sandwich, and just happened to remember the bhel puri the guy next to you ordered.’ ‘Sure, happens all the time,’ I responded the first few hundred times that happened, but then I began to realize that there was more to this than just complete stupidity. They have a plan, and I’m not sure why but I’m fairly certain they hate my guts. Actually I know exactly why, I’m quite an ass hole, what I don’t know is how they know I’m an ass hole. That part escapes me. But yes, they are clearly trying to kill me.
That last sentence may have sounded extreme but when you put all the pieces of the puzzle together it becomes blatantly obvious that I will not make it out of here alive. And if they are as smart as I think they are, then my death, no matter how hard I try and evade it, will come very soon. And despite my best efforts to make an impression, I will not be missed. All of this worries me, but know this I will not let Head Canteen Guy (can’t for the life of me remember his name) and his evil henchman get the better of me. I will fight, fight till the last poisoned samosa sabhar and pav bhaji. Till the last cyanide laced Mazaa or coke. And take my last breath fist pointed in the air whilst I choke on lethal grilled sandwich.
Or I’ll just start having lunch at the bar across the street, whichever’s more convenient.
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