Mr. Wrong By Joe MacLeod

Mr. Wrong: It ain't cool being no jive turkey so close to Thanksgiving

Mr. Wrong wants you to enjoy Thanksgiving and clean up after yourself in the workplace

You don't have to eat a turkey if you don't want to, but I look forward to eating something (OK, overeating a lot of somethings) on Thanksgiving and then lying on the floor in front of the Television. You know how in some old songs they say, "Throw your hands up in the air, and wave 'em like you just don't care"? I think throwing yourself down on the floor in front of the Teevee is the finest Signifier for Just Don't Care, you know? I wish I could think up a good rhyme for it, like, "Plotz your butt down on the floor, and roll around every once in a while like you don't care anymore, and then maybe catch the National Dog Show* and fall asleep and then wake up and go eat something." Anyway, I'll be lying on a floor someplace this Thanksgiving working on a snappy Couplet for that whole situation in between naps, a thing for which I am totally and One Hundred Percent Thanksgivingful.

I am also totally Thanksgivingful for waking up from regular non-nap slumber each morning, or Early Afternoon, or, OK, Late Afternoon sometimes, and yeah, that one time it was Evening, no getting around that one, totally dark outside, I got up and went to a movie and had popcorn for breakfast, but anyway, I am Thanksgivingful for the ability to get up out of bed and do stuff, such as go to my Day Job.

I hope you have a Job, if you need one. Gainful Employment is frequently (but not necessarily) the mark of a stable Life, because having a regular Thing to do usually means Stability or Domestic Tranquillity or something like that, which is always nice, right?

Personally, again, I have a Day Job, and as far as I'm concerned, any time you're not Out There on the side of the road all day swinging a sledgehammer breaking rocks, then you are practically stealing your paycheck, and every one of those aforementioned checks is all the Sweeter, in terms of that Stolen Fruit aphorism or idiom, or whatever, which might even be in the Bible, if your Beliefs swing that way.

Yeah man, I'm not trying to get all Protestant Work Ethic on you, but it's just nice sometimes to have a Jay-Oh-Bee, and I have one, in an office with a chair and a desk and my own wastebasket and phone extension and everything, and my corner of this Workaday World is connected to a larger area with a bulletin board and a water cooler and a lunchroom and stuff like that, and in all my years in Office Space—as a Professional person, if you will—the one thing that never fails to tick me off is a certain practice by certain members of the Office Community, members who shall go unnamed (because I don't know who They are), a practice which is mildly disgusting and totally annoying, and I bet it's completely unhygienic, and Judgmentally, I would like to add that it is inconsiderate and slothful.

I am referring to the practice of enjoying the privilege (not the Right, the Privilege) of consuming one's Lunch or Breakfast or maybe even one's Dinner office-meal in the Common Area designated for Food Preparation and Consumption in one's office, and then taking the dish or bowl or other surface from which to eat food, and putting it in the sink that everybody uses and then putting some water or maybe even some soap on the dining dishware, and then leaving it there, in the sink, for hours, sometimes days, while other people in the Communal area are forced to look at your nasty dish and the remnants of whatever glop you shoved into your face-hole for lunch. Terrific. What is your plan here? Is this gonna improve with age like a fine wine or trendy whiskey? Is what's remaining of the thing you ate so tenaciously adhered to your dining surface that you couldn't get it off, and now you have to let it "soak"? What exactly are you eating? Perhaps you should re-evaluate your diet in terms of not ingesting things that don't readily respond to soap and water? Hey, here's an idea, how about you work off a few calories from your oatmeal or microwave burrito or whatever and make a physical effort to scrub that dish and then get it outta the sink so the rest of us don't have to look at it and smell that revolting smell of putrefying food particles dissolved into stagnant soap-water? Barf!

So with that one stated exception, allow me to be Thanksgivingful for Thanksgiving and being around for another year and let me be especially Thanksgivingful in regard and regards to you, Gentle Reader, for getting to the end of another Mr. Wrong Column by reading it (or at least listening attentively as somebody read it to you), and I hope you have or had a Thanky Thanksgiving, and if this is the worst one ever, well, that means there's a pretty good shot the next one will be better, right? Another thing I'm not Thanksgivingful for is I'm gonna be seeing that office sink with leftover turkey fragments in the strainer, yuck.



Mailmail: MR. WRONG, c/o CITY PAPER, 501 N. Calvert St., Baltimore, MD 21278

*Correction: An earlier version of this story erroneously referred to the National Dog Show as the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show. City Paper regrets the error.

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