I am the coolest guy in the office. I end every email with “cheers.” My keys are on a carabiner attached to my belt; they jingle when I walk. You’d think this noise would be annoying, but it’s not. It lets you know a cool guy is on his way and you better have something good to say when I ask about your weekend.
How was my weekend? It was pretty low-key. On Friday, I went to that new Korean BBQ place with some friends. It was supposed to be a three-hour wait, but I know the chef, so we got in right away. The food was alright.
After, we went for drinks at a bar that’s hidden inside of another bar. It can only be accessed from a revolving bookshelf, by pulling on the hardcover of The Catcher in the Rye (More of a Franny and Zooey guy myself). But the bar had a decent vibe, and all the drinks were the same price the prohibition days, minus the 50-dollar cover. It was good times.
But your weekend sounds nice though, a Costco trip is always fun.
Just kidding, I’ve never been to Costco. I only shop at my local bodega and that Asian market near the park, plus I grow all my own herbs. Gardening is cool, like me.
And yes, I’ve always been this cool. Just look at this picture of me when I was a baby. I’m wearing sunglasses inside and holding an empty beer can. Yup, that’s an unlit cigarette behind my ear. My parents knew I was destined to be cool, that’s why they named me Cory.
How cool am I exactly? Well, I have buttons of bands on my jacket that you’ve never heard of. My barber wears a leather apron and doesn’t take walk-ins. I call Easter “Zombie Jesus day.” I am, by far, the coolest at this company. Way cooler than that intern who made that synth-rock album.
I’m different. Instead of knocking on your office door, I stick my head in and say, “knock knock.” Instead of saying, “You’re welcome,” I say, “You bet!” I smoked a marijuana cigarette at the Christmas party last year.
In grade school I wore fingerless gloves; my shoes flashed red when I walked. In junior high, I had a seashell necklace with a guitar pic on the end. In 8th grade, I did a kick-flip off the stage in the auditorium. So yeah, I’ve got a history of being cool.
My Saturday night wasn’t so bad either. Went out to Brooklyn and saw a show at Saint Vitus. The band was okay, though I preferred their older stuff. The venue was packed but I didn’t have to wait for drinks; I used to play in a band with the bartender, he hooked me up. I finished the night off with some street food. I know a little place open late that sells Donair. Not as good as the ones in Halifax though.
In high school, my girlfriend had a lower back tattoo; I had aviator sunglasses and a Motorola Razer. At senior prom, I wore Converse and a tuxedo t-shirt under a blazer.
Sunday was chill. I stayed in and watched some football. No, not American football. The London derby, Arsenal vs Fulham. It was a tie.
Oh yeah? You went to your godson’s Christening? They’re so cute at that age. Neat. After the match, I met some friends for tapas. I pronounced all the names correctly when ordering.
Good talk, Dave. I better get back to the grind now. I call working “the grind,” though I don’t really do much. I usually just chill in my cubicle, which is the coolest one in the office. I have an X-Files poster on the wall and a framed picture of that one time I met Dave Grohl. Above my recycling box is a tiny basketball net.