Plenty of dough, anyway

About twenty-five years ago, I was working on something that they assured us was not really an assembly line, despite the conveyor belt and all. It was a good place to hone one's snark, and I put quite the edge on mine.

There was one officious type from two or three levels up who appeared to have jumped out of a can of biscuits once upon a time; he was good for at least one visit to the premises each day, and for four days one week he showed up in a blue suit. And not just any blue, either: we're talking Ice Blue Secret blue, strong enough for a man, if that man is Bruce Vilanich on a bender.

I kept my mouth shut.

Friday he showed up in a brown — let's call it "Valvoline after 6,000 miles" — suit.

"I see you dyed the blue suit," I said.

A guy like that wears a scent like this.

Posted at 2:34 PM to General Disinterest