Sour Cream

Today I fucked up and got my ass in a sling over some ice cream.
I can't mix ice cream with the workplace without raising hell. I used to get drunk , get high , fuck around- act out all sorts of job-threatening behavior at almost every job I've had but I never got in trouble for any of that- just the goddamned ice cream.

At lunch today I saw workers setting up tables and wheeling a Good Humour cart into the main lobby of our new, yet already crumbling building. Every once in a while there will be a promotional event held there- sometimes it involves giving away free foodstuffs, of which I usually partake; at other times the foodstuffs are the promotion and are being sold at fairground prices. I avoid these.

How much?, I asked one of the ice cream girls.

Free, she said. At 3PM.

Thank you, see ya at 3!

It was closer to 3:30, but I missed the rush, so I had full run of the sundae line.

Chocolate or vanilla?

Both. Extra Chocolate.

It seemed the prevailing etiquette was to only have one or the other. Two scoops and I'd already started pushing invisible social boundaries. It's a sad reflection on the lack of individualism in the workplace that something like asking for a second scoop of ice cream is unspokenly considered threshold behavior.
My Spidey Sense started tingling, but I went with the flow of the sundae buffet, move along, move along...I heaped my bowl with nuts, berries, M&M's , choclate chips and hot butterscotch fudge until goo was dripping from all edges. A strategically arranged pile of napkins protected my hands from sticky calamity.

This was the MotherShip Sundae.
The Goddess Sundae.
The Sundae Herald of Armageddon.

This sundae might be too big to fit on the elevator, I thought, just as five (5!) Office Hens from The Firm join me in the elevator. They must have been having a smoky clucking break, because they had no sundaes and some of them looked at my stacked bowl with obvious envy.

Under normal conditions, time halts for me when I am in a crowded elevator. I panic and wonder if I'm ever getting off- ever.

I was in an elevator , surrounded by overweight women who coveted my massive sundae. I felt like a black jellybean in a carton of eggs.

"Hi. Did y'all get any ice cream? " Maybe they didn't know that it was free?

"No," said one, "we don't work for ( Other Firm). She was also implying, of course, that neither did I.

"Oh. Is this their ice cream?", I asked, somewhat puzzled.

"Yes".

"Well, they gave me some , no problem. It's set up in the public area, you know."

"Well, I probably couldn't get any. They know me."

Anonymity is the key to ice cream? I was getting ready to follow up on that, why would they deny her ice cream if they knew her? Are they adversaries?

*Ding!*
We get off the elevator- shit!- late Friday and it was crowded near the elevators.
I stepped out carrying this multi-hued, giant-ass contraband sundae. I might as well have beeen covered with red ink following a bank heist. I was busted by everyone, no getting around it. Tsk...who does he think..., tsk..heh,heh, he stole ice cream...etc...fuss fusss

"Well, you can always take it back and apologize", suggested a helpful Hen. She was serious.

I said thank you when they gave it to me, now I should apologize?
How can I apologize when my mouth is full of ice cream and strawberries? That would be rude.
I retreated to my cell and I enjoyed every ill-gotten bite.

I think that if Other Firm had wanted to keep their ice cream to themselves, they would have kept it in the office like we do instead of setting up in the entrance to the building.

My boss is on vacation next week, but when he gets back, I'm sure someone will say something
and some sort of punishment will be meted out. I have a history of ice cream agitation. I am allergic to ice cream socials .

This is horseshit. I just turned 40 and I'm worried about getting fired over ice cream?
This is my job reality? That's fucked up.
Crazy fucked-up.
It occurs to me that they can kiss my ass.