Let It Snow, Let It Snow, Let It Snow…Inside
When I got back from my lunch break today, there was still some snow melting on a few of the cars parked outside the station. I decided to make a snowball and wreak havoc on some poor helpless soul inside. As I headed indoors, I knew I had to be selective in acquiring a target. After all, radio stations have a lot of equipment that requires electricity. Snow and electricity don’t mix well. My best bet was to ambush someone in the hallway. Unfortunately, the victim I chose caught wind of my intentions (I guess me running towards him with a battle cry tipped him off) and he dashed into the safety of a room filled with expensive equipment. Not an expression of mature masculinity, in my opinion.
I then decided to attack whoever was in the kitchen—one of the other few places to safely dispense snow projectiles without ruining company property. Alas and alack, no one was in the kitchen. The next best thing to do was wait. Shaun, the nighttime DJ for Love 89, doesn’t come in until mid-afternoon, so I decided to tarry until then. In the meantime, I hid the snowball in the freezer.
The hours went by slowly, but good things come to those who wait. When I saw Shaun, I rushed to the freezer. As you might guess, the snowball now had the consistency of a rock. “Who cares?” I thought. But then, out of the goodness of my heart, I decided throwing a rock into the face of a guy who had to go on the air in a couple hours probably wouldn’t serve him.
Shaun was busy talking with another DJ, so I rushed outside. Yes, there was barely enough snow to form one small snowball. When I came back inside, Shaun was still talking. I concealed the environmentally safe weapon in my hand, which got quite cold over the next several minutes. At long last, Shaun ended the conversation, briefly stopped to talk to me, then headed to his office. In amazing slow motion, I jumped out of my chair, rushed out of the production studio and rounded the corner into the hallway. My unsuspecting victim was almost to the doorway at the other end. The stomping of my feet must have caught his attention, because he turned around as I wound up for the pitch. His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened in typical deer-caught-in-headlights fashion.
In retrospect, I probably should have used the rock. This snowball was so soft, it exploded on its way through the air. By the time it reached Shaun, it was about the size of a quarter. The other pieces fell harmlessly to the floor.
Shaun didn’t have any snow with which to retaliate, so he grabbed a “Parenting With Confidence” brochure and threw it at me…repeatedly. Needless to say, when all was said and done neither one of us had inflicted much damage on the other.
So much for my plans of wreaking havoc.
I then decided to attack whoever was in the kitchen—one of the other few places to safely dispense snow projectiles without ruining company property. Alas and alack, no one was in the kitchen. The next best thing to do was wait. Shaun, the nighttime DJ for Love 89, doesn’t come in until mid-afternoon, so I decided to tarry until then. In the meantime, I hid the snowball in the freezer.
The hours went by slowly, but good things come to those who wait. When I saw Shaun, I rushed to the freezer. As you might guess, the snowball now had the consistency of a rock. “Who cares?” I thought. But then, out of the goodness of my heart, I decided throwing a rock into the face of a guy who had to go on the air in a couple hours probably wouldn’t serve him.
Shaun was busy talking with another DJ, so I rushed outside. Yes, there was barely enough snow to form one small snowball. When I came back inside, Shaun was still talking. I concealed the environmentally safe weapon in my hand, which got quite cold over the next several minutes. At long last, Shaun ended the conversation, briefly stopped to talk to me, then headed to his office. In amazing slow motion, I jumped out of my chair, rushed out of the production studio and rounded the corner into the hallway. My unsuspecting victim was almost to the doorway at the other end. The stomping of my feet must have caught his attention, because he turned around as I wound up for the pitch. His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened in typical deer-caught-in-headlights fashion.
In retrospect, I probably should have used the rock. This snowball was so soft, it exploded on its way through the air. By the time it reached Shaun, it was about the size of a quarter. The other pieces fell harmlessly to the floor.
Shaun didn’t have any snow with which to retaliate, so he grabbed a “Parenting With Confidence” brochure and threw it at me…repeatedly. Needless to say, when all was said and done neither one of us had inflicted much damage on the other.
So much for my plans of wreaking havoc.