I missed a call from Big Chris last night and I thus called him on my way to work this morning to find out what was up. Big Chris, it seems, is unable to actually leave a voicemail and as much as I remind him that a missed call does not a message make, he refuses.
It seems he had a spare ticket to some concert and after exhausting all of his options, decided to call me. While touched, I remarked that I was pissed I was last on his list. “Well, it’s not the kind of concert you take a girl to. And since my guy friends were all busy, I called you. I regard you as walking the line between chick and buddy.”
I wiped a tear from my eye as Chris put me on hold. I could hear him on another phone in his office, and then I heard him make an announcement over the inter-office loudspeaker. “Ladies and Gentlemen, the Roach Coach is here! I repeat, the Roach Coach is here.”
He then casually picked up his cell and resumed chatting with me, as if nothing wonderful had occurred.
“Oh my god, Chris. It’s your job to announce to your entire company that the Roach Coach has arrived? That’s beautiful.”
“Yeah, they won’t start working till the Roach Coach shows.”
What an awesome responsibility, though, to alert the workers that breakfast burritos are minutes away, decade old muffins sit right at the curbside and doughnuts already touched by thousands sit in pink boxes, ready to be man-handled again…