So, today was my last day of secure employment. I had a BBQ buffet lunch at the Marriott sponsored by our head partner, went over the cases I’m handing over to others, and packed. Then I loaded the wife’s minivan full of my shit and headed to an empty office in a building in Buckhead to jettison said shit (after dragging out the dentist’s chair and light left by a previous tenant).
But first, I had some unfinished business. I felt it imperative that I have closure with the turd burglar–the short, stocky female janitor who, every day for two years, burst into the restroom at precisely the time in which I was using it–9:30am. I found her in the hallway leading to the can. I stopped her.
Me: “So, today’s my last day at this office. You won’t be interrupting me any more in the mornings.”
Me: “You know, it’s funny, but I actually refer to you as the ‘turd burglar.’ It’s…
TB: “What do you say? Tood Booger?”
Me: “No, Tuuuuurd Buuuur-gler. It’s actually quite amusing.”
TB: “Troood Brooger? I don’t understand ‘trood brooger’.”
Me: “It’s….it’s just…nevermind. See you around, turd burglar. You won’t have the Muskrat to kick around any more.”
And then I put one of my new business cards on top of everyone’s keyboard, left my key card on my old desk, and walked out into the unknown.