Can I help you, ma’am

I love how work dramas get to be a big mystery. I went into the mailroom this morning and our youngest, surliest, mailroom guy [YSMG] said, “Hi, how are you, can I help you?”

I said, “Um…no, thanks,” as I whizzed past him to get an interoffice envelope.

So I spoke to one of the secretaries, “Do I have a dread disease…or did something happen to YSMG…he’s being so friendly?”

She said, “I don’t know–I’ll have to investigate.”  And then, “Ok, I just got the same treatment from him, so I asked him ‘what’s up with that?  Did someone talk to you?’ “

He said, “Um…sort of…I’m just trying to be more interactive with people.”

My Translation:  YSMG ass is out unless he acts like he works here.

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I am off tonight to see the mother, so I won’t be updating until Sunday. Have a good weekend!

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