I work in a semi-private office. I have the half
of the office near the door. There is a big cabinet that divides the
room. So, when people walk down the hall they can see what I’m doing.
Unless I have my privacy screen on my laptop. Which I ALWAYS do!
However, when someone is visiting my suite-mate they walk behind me and
ALWAYS look at what I’m working on. In most cases I’m fast enough to
minimize the screen so they don’t see me reading posts on WestonPoker.
It wouldn’t be that bad to get caught on WestonPoker. One little
exception. Big Earl’s dancing g-string chick and Vanman’s naked fishing
woman.
I’m reading one particular post where Vanman responded to Big Earl.
That was greatness. A dancing stripper avatar above a naked fishing
buddy. No problem, until someone starts to walk in the office. As
normal, I sit up and move the mouse to minimize the screen. As I sit up
in my chair, I put my foot down on the floor. My shoe catches my mouse
cord under the desk. The mouse goes flying out of my hand, smacks the
wall loudly, and drops behind the desk. In a panic I make a dive to
retrieve the mouse and hit my head on the desk. As I fall to my knees,
the chair goes flying behind me and hits the visitor in the shin.
Fighting through the blinding pain, I reach for the mouse and start
clicking away, hoping that it is on the minimize button. I pull my head
just above desk level to see the screen and use the floor as the mouse
pad to click the naked people out of my life. Possibly forever.
I remain on the floor. My forehead is throbbing. My chair is gone.
My career is definitely in question. I stare quietly at my computer
from the floor. Then I hear: “Are you OK?” It’s good to know that even
in unparalleled embarrassment and mind-numbing pain, I can still be
sarcastic.
“Yes. Why? What have you heard?”
