When I was a banker, a young woman reported to me. Combined, we were lethal. For some reason, together, our collective thoughts dissipated and we were as giddy and stupid as calves. Our hysteria reached heights, each one of us topping the other in laughter. We developed a saying, "Two heads are not better than one." Management had to separate us because of our disruptive behavior. We made others in my department laugh and everyone knows that happy people don't produce as much as dour ones.
I left my job for bigger and better prospects and she inherited my position. We met a year later over dinner: the magic was gone. But the memories, ah! the memories.
My friend came over the other day. He pulled out his iPhone and keyed in the search feature for directions from my place to Connecticut. "Ha!" he shouted and then laughed.
"I looked to see how long it'll take me to get to Stamford and it says 15 days."
After we had a good laugh, I said, "Well, these aps on the iPhones aren't infallible. I looked at the weather one last week and it must've froze from exposure to winter here. I've the same temperature since the cold March."
With that, I pulled out my iPhone and hit the ap. With pride, I picked up my iPhone and displayed the temperature, 22 degrees.
He rolled his eyes. "It didn't freeze. That's in Celsius."
Yes, I've my blonde moments as well.
He texted me yesterday that he couldn't stop laughing about that exchange while working. I just hope he didn't laugh while on top of the roof he's ripping apart.
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This is a work of fiction. Names, character, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.