Nope, I’m not talking about the movie here. Instead, I’d like to pose a question: Why would a host or hostess EVER seat customers next to a table with a crying baby when the restaurant was empty? Does this make any sense? I ask this because it happened to me last night.

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Monday…the one day of the week that everybody agrees is the worst day of the week. Everybody that is except me. Oh sure, Monday is no walk in the park, and it’s no Friday, but I think there is a day more sinister, more diabolical, and more insidious than Monday. What day could this be? Brace yourself: It’s Wednesday. I’ll give you a second to pull yourself together.

That’s right, in my opinion, Wednesday is the worst day of the week. It’s so evil that it slips under most people’s radar, just because it’s in the middle of the work week. Don’t be fooled though, it is the worst day of the week. To prove it, I present the following three reasons (in no particular order):

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Before I delve into this story, I have one question for you: How long do you think it takes for the sun to fade your car’s paint? Keep the answer in the back of your mind, you’ll need it later.

The car wash is a magical, mystifying place, steeped in mystery and puzzles….wait…no it’s not…it’s a freaking car wash. It doesn’t get much simpler than the car wash, and the most simple type of car wash is the Automatic Gas Station Car Wash. You pull up, pay for your wash, and then pull into the wash when directed. Gives you a headache just thinking about it, right?

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Out of all the things that could happen when you’re walking home from work, what do you think is the LEAST likely out of this list:

1. Dog attack
2. Splashed by a car
3. Bird crapping on your head

Oh wait, is one of those choices HIGHLIGHTED? Yes, that’s right, highlighted. Why? Because it is so improbable that it is the obvious choice. Do you see where I’m going with this? Let me spell it out for those who missed it:

Walking home from work today, a bird crapped on my head

I’ll set the scene: I’m walking home from work, enjoying the nice day outside. It’s about a 15 minute walk from my work to my apartment, so it’s not too bad. I’d also like to point out that I usually snag a ride from my fiancé to and from work (feel free to boo me at this point, but it’s on her way =) ).

Anyways, I’m strolling along like a sucker, about five minutes into my walk, when IT happens. Now, it’s important to realize that when you get crapped on by a bird, you may not realize it immediately. It can almost feel like a drop of water hit you. The last thing you think just happen is that you got crapped on. What are the chances I ask you?

Back to the story, I get this feeling and the first thing I do is reach my hand up and see what’s going on. To my horror, it comes back wet and slimy. Oh yes, wet and slimy. Stunned, I keep walking. It slowly dawns on me what actually happened. If this has never happened to you, it’s pretty hard to describe how disgusting it feels. You’ll just have to take my word for it. Here’s the worst part: I work right outside of Washington DC, in a busy little town called Arlington. What does this mean? It means there were more than enough people to witness this happen. Even better, I still had a good 10 minute walk ahead of me.

When something like this happens, it feels like everybody is looking at you, even if they aren’t. Old ladies, babies, cab drivers, it felt like everybody knew of my misfortune. Waiting at a crosswalk became unbearable. I’m pretty sure that I’ve never made it home faster than I did today. Needless to say, I washed myself as quickly as possible.

Do you want to know what the worst part is (nope, haven’t gotten to it yet)? The worst part is that this is not the first time I’ve had this happen to me. When I was about 12, I was helping my dad work a sidewalk sale at our store and as I’m ringing up a satisfied customer, the same thing happened. Here’s my theory: I think that the birds decided to lay low for a while, just to throw me off my guard. Then, when I least expect it, they strike with the quickness. What’s the solution? Obviously, I’m not going to divulge it on the Internet, as the sly bastards have spies everywhere. However, I will give you one hint: It involves a hat.

There is an unspoken rule when using the elevator: Let the people who are on the elevator get off before you get on. We don’t think about it, we don’t talk about it, but it’s there never the less. It’s taken for granted that EVERYBODY will abide by this rule. The question becomes, what happens when they don’t?

The other day a buddy of mine and I were taking the elevator back up to our office, after a rousing trip to Safeway (otherwise known as: hey, we’ve been at work for five minutes, we need a break). As we get to our floor, the elevator doors open. Suddenly, the person waiting to use the elevator WALKS IN. We’re both stopped in mid-stride, confused and bewildered. Are we on the right floor? Are we at work? Have we slipped into a parallel universe where the laws of the office don’t apply?!?! All these questions raced through our minds. We barely made it out into the hallway before the elevator doors closed.

Shaken, we stumbled back to our office, discussing the matter. It had to be a one time thing. Lo and behold, the next day it happened to me again. This time however, the person had a crapload of PACKAGES, making it almost impossible for me to get out. What the hell is that all about? Who does that? They had to know nobody could get out when they walked in. I couldn’t believe it. In my head, I told them off. In reality, I said “Excuse me..”.

Over the past few weeks this seems to be happening more and more often, like that first incident opened the floodgates. What rule will be the next to follow? Waiting in line for the water cooler? There would be water and fists everywhere! We must take it upon ourselves to educate out co-workers before chaos reigns, and NOBODY passes the cake down at the next office party!

There are two languages spoken at work. On the one hand, you have the language that you hear. On the other, you have what you really think. So how do you translate between the two?

Here are 10 “work phrases” that I use at the office, and what I’m actually thinking when I say them.

• What you hear: I understand your point, but I think that (x) is a better way to go.
  What I’m thinking: What the hell are you talking about? Do we work on the same project? Yeah, I guess we could go your way, but then I might as well start working on a way to fix it now.

• What you hear: Sure, we can push the deadline up.
  What I’m thinking: You heartless bastard. If I had known I was dealing with Satan, I would have brought my crucifix.

• What you hear: Yeah, I can analyze that for you and get you the results before the end of the day.
  What I’m thinking: I was thinking about skipping lunch anyways, so this just seals the deal. I’m going to go to the bathroom right now, because I won’t be leaving my desk until sundown.

• What you hear: 5:00 is no problem, we can meet then.
  What I’m thinking: No, its ok, I had my jacket on because it’s cold in here. You know what, I think I’ll just sleep here since it’ll take me about 6 hours to get home with the traffic I’m going to hit now. Oh, by the way, I just died a little bit inside.

• What you hear: No problem (name), I can help you out with that.
  What I’m thinking: This is great. I was just sitting here playing that Indian knife game, but helping you is slightly more fun. Even better, maybe we can hang out later and I can drink the pain away.

• What you hear: We can go to that Chinese place for lunch.
  What I’m thinking: You know, this is really a stroke of luck. They just remodeled the men’s restroom, and I’ve been meaning to check out. Now I’ll be able to examine it all afternoon.

• What you hear: Sure, I can work the weekend again.
  What I’m thinking: I’m going to hire someone to give you the clap.

• What you hear: This needs some serious revision.
  What I’m thinking: I’m firing you and hiring the monkeys back. I don’t care how much it costs us in typewriters and cigarettes.

• What you hear:I’m not sure we’re going to make our deadline.
  What I’m thinking: I haven’t slept in three days. I think Jim is dead, but I haven’t been able to leave my cubicle to check. It’s all getting a bit fuzzy…….flying monkeys would be awesome, I would definitely pay to see them…….Did you say something?

• What you hear: Changed the requirements? It’s ok, we can incorporate those changes into the design.
  What I’m thinking: Wow. Is it wrong to want to strangle someone with your bare hands? Maybe I’ll wear gloves, less traceable, but I don’t think I would get the same sense of accomplishment.