My boss has a flesh-eating disease.
The financial aid officer seems on the verge of getting into a fist fight with the printer. There is a paper jam.
The fax machine is also jamming.
The large copier is also jamming. Always jamming.
I almost got scammed by a lady on the phone who asked me to tell her our copier’s model number. My boss caught me just in time. Apparently it’s a well-known scam where they trick you into buying like $600 worth of shit.
Did I mention that my boss has a FLESH-EATING DISEASE? I feel really bad. She is a good lady. Somebody else should get a flesh-eating disease, like the guy who tried to tell me I lost his package this morning, when in fact it was sitting in the music office, like I said. This is the conversation we had this morning:
Him: Hello, UPS says there was a package delivered here and you signed for it and I never received it.
Me: Oh. When did it come?
Him: Monday. I have the tracking number. They said you signed for it. It has your name.
Me: Well, everything I get for you goes right to the music office.
Him: I went to the website and it said you signed for it.
Me: It is probably in the music office.
Him: I have the tracking number.
Me: Music… office…
Him: I’ll email you the tracking number.
And he walks away.
And I call the music office and they have it.
Also, my boss has a FLESH-EATING DISEASE.