Tuesday, October 11, 2005

I Wanna Run Through the Halls of My Office. I Wanna Scream at the Top of My Lungs.

Followup to this post:

I failed to follow my own advice. In my defense, of course, it was very, very late, and I was tired.

My colleagues and I had all stayed late in the office one recent evening (the last in a series of such late evenings) to finish up a massive project that was coming due soon. Papers were everywhere: first-, second-, third-, and even fourth- and fifth-round drafts; final drafts; photocopies of exhibits; extra copies of the copies; copies of everything for us; copies for the court; copies for the opposing lawyers. It was a mess.

Having created and assembled all the necessary paperwork, we knew the end was near so we said we'd finish up the last bit in the morning. By this time, it was 11:15 p.m. As we began to wind down, in an effort to lend some levity to the intense work atmosphere, I opened up my music player and had it start cranking out some tunes.

Most everyone else in the office lives near each other (the exception is me, because I live near the office), so they all took off together, and all I was left to do was shut down my computer for the night, get some rest, and go back the next morning to finish up the project.

Having thus left me all alone in my office as we approached the witching hour, I was tired and felt the need to let loose. So when Donna Summer’s extended version of "Love to Love You Baby" came blaring through my speakers, I pretty much just went crazy. The speakers were by this point were turned up well past 5 on a scale of 1 to 10 (try this on your computer and you’ll see this is not soft), and I was ready to rock out, as much as possible to an aging disco tune.

I started walking dancing my way between my office and work room cleaning up some last minute details for the next day with a sense of relief at the imminent completion of this project and with a spring in my step. So relieved was I, in fact, that I

started

to

sing


along with Donna. At the top of my lungs.

Iiiiiiiii love to love you baby! Iiiiiiiiiii love to love you baby! Iiiiiiiiiiii......

Yeah, see that part where my screaming tapers off? It was around this point where I noticed that a random building employee had come into the office (to this day I don't know why) and observed me acting like a complete nut.

"Busy huh?" he asked me in his broken English laced with a Spanish accent.

"Uh... yeah," I responded. Then, just because it was too late anyway, I continued singing. Screw the maintenance guy. I was embarrassed, yes, but I was tired, dammit, and I needed this stress relief.

10 comments:

kat said...

HO-LY crap, i just laughed my ass off at that! :)

will said...

At least you weren't doing some sort of semi-striptease dance or anything along those lines, because THAT would have been awkward. Or it might have gotten you a date. Or both.

MoDigli said...

love it! Great story. No shame in your game, Dennis! Sing it OUT LOUD! :)

anne said...

The guy probably sings to himself very very loudly when he's alone too. And the fact that you kept singing: priceless. And very classy (no irony).

Jon said...

I'm sure he didn't mind. Everyone enjoys seeing things like that, they make good stories. Plus, it's happened to the best of us ;)

duane said...

I love that you kept going. We would get along just fine, you and I.

KOB said...

I'm glad you kept singing!

Matthew said...

Absolutely hilarious, Dennis.

The best, though, is how you just went with it, anyway, and decided to say 'screw it.'

People are way to uptight as it is.

Oh, and good choice of music! If you're gonna' queen out, Donna Summer's the way to do it. :-)

katie said...

That's hilarious!
You know the coke commercial where the people ride the little trike around their office? I want to do that.

Melissa said...

When I am the last one in the office, I crank up the music and sing really badly. No dancing though . . . .
; )