For a short while, the recording that played when you called my company was of my voice. When our new phone system was installed, the woman who records the greetings company-wide was on vacation, so the IT department asked me to record the greeting.
Wait. Actually, they asked me to recommend someone with a good speaking voice to do it. And I was like, “Well, people have TOLD ME that I should be a voice actor. I wouldn’t want to, you know, toot my own horn or anything, but . . .” And they were like, “Oh, all right.” Embarrassing.
Naturally, during this time, I had extensive fantasies involving all of my exes finding out about this and then calling my workplace continuously, waiting anxiously for the part where I seductively said quality assurance. I later went on to do the voiceovers for two of our marketing videos, which I now assume they’ve favourited on YouTube and listen to quietly in the bathroom on their iPhones after dinner, the soothing words enterprise content management system the only thing keeping them from raising their hands to their nagging new girlfriends and wives some nights.
These are the kinds of thoughts that get me through repeated friend request rejections by them on Facebook.
Sometimes I pass the one black lady with natural hair on our floor at work and think about that sign I put up that one time on the bathroom door about going to stall #4 “if you want to see the longest pube ever” before I knew there was a long history of black people’s hair being compared to pubes, and even though it could’ve totally actually been a pube, it probably was her hair, and she never says hi back when I say hi, and I kind of understand why.
I know that people hate to/are unable to watch videos, but these are mostly for me.
Our poor, sweet German intern finds himself a Lucky Cheng’s drag show participant (“Ms. Tess Tickles”) during our company’s monthly dinner club. It’s long, but you guys, he dances.
Even when we’re on vacation, Kamran pays absolutely no attention to me. (This one couldn’t fit my “creepy boyfriend obsession” tag any better.)
My friend Sylvan tries to scare me my first time eating jellyfish.
Aaron visits from Australia and boldly sings Backstreet Boys at karaoke. When I ask if I can use the video on my blog, he says he sounds “like a really creepy old country/western singer” and then adds, “Of course you can use it.”
Earlier this week, I walked into work, and to my delight, one of the giant fake gifts under the giant fake Christmas tree in the lobby started skidding across the floor toward me, following me as I walked toward the elevators.
Clearly this is a sign that majorly awesome presents are coming my way in the next couple of weeks.
I'm Katie, a farmgirl originally from Ohio who moved to NYC in 2005 for no apparent reason. I like vintage-looking things that are actually new, filagree everything, people who don't make me feel awkward, meaning it when I say "no sleep till Brooklyn", and not trying too hard.
