Colorado. Runner. Yogi. Fucking hilarious, like, 17% of the time.

notes on a scandal

All kinds of TV is over for the year, but I'm having a hard time letting go. (Armchair psychologists, I understand you just opened your mouths to point out some parallels. Pretend I'm reaching over and gently lifting your chin to close that mouth right back up.) I have many, many finales just sitting in my Hulu queue, being ignored because I'm not ready for them to be over (even for the year). I've also started taking quite an interest in the drama of the people close to me, but sadly very little of that is available for writing about.

The biggest real life scandal that I have access to that's currently on the table for internet sharing involves crackers.

So, my girlfriend from my last job (yeah, that job where that person wrote me that comment mentioned in the PS here that I might write about tomorrow) ate lunch at her desk yesterday. That lunch involved a sleeve of saltines. When she finished what she wanted, she wrapped the plastic around the remainder and left them so that she could return to them today.

Today when she returned to work there were many, many fewer saltines in the package.

This suggests a few different scenarios.

1) Someone who works in the building at night (primarily but not entirely maintenance - some engineers never sleep) is super rude and thought that food on a desk was food meant to share. Most likely but also least interesting explanation.

2) She's actually a sleeper for Russia or ... Ireland. Or whoever is planting sleepers here now. The US government has become peripherally aware of this and stole some crackers for DNA testing because they somehow have a cache of DNA from when current sleepers were babies. Least likely but most interesting explanation.

3) Someone is gaslighting her for purposes not yet clear. They're going to keep removing things from or rearranging things in her office until she thinks she's losing her mind. Then, they'll ... who knows. Least sensical explanation.

4) I'm returning there in my sleep out of habit. This is compelling because I have never been able to resist a saltine, and I drove there five times a week for two years. It's possible it's a place I would drive in my sleep out of pure habit. Best balance between interest and likelihood: boom. There's our scandal.

If anything else disappears, our options may change. I'll keep you updated on this breaking news.

shame

compromise