The cat and I have just reestablished whose territory my desk is. I've won this battle with only minor bleeding.
I've reclaimed my desk, the cats haven't killed anything unidentifiable lately, and it is still to cold for the hoi poloi to be out in the neighborhood. This leaves me a little short of new material. However, this is ME we are talking about so really there is no lack of material for a post. So sit back and get ready for the next episode of Accident Prone.
For the first few years of grad school I also worked at a bank. Business suit in the morning, dirty archaeologist in the afternoon. The rectangular lobby of the bank was flanked on one side with the teller line and on the other with glass fronted offices. I had just started work there and my mail box had been bombed with memos overnight. I have always been absorbed by the printed word. As a child my nose was constantly poked into some book or comic book. When I turned 16 I didn't know how to get to anywhere past a three mile radius of the house (the length of my attention span before getting bored, sticking my nose in a book, and tuning out the world), and of course this habit also lent itself to walking. I have a tendency to read and walk at the same time with obvious consequence for someone of my particular talents... That being said, I could not prolong looking at the contents of my mailbox even for the three minute walk to my office. As I strolled down the aisle of offices I became more and more absorbed into the letter detailing the current mortgage rate changes. As I turned to enter my assigned office BAM!!!! Followed by the sound of reverb as the shock wave traveled through the pane of glass. Now some would say that it was probably a good thing I was looking down - as it was my forehead that hit the glass, and I narrowly dodged a broken nose. However, as my luck would play out every other one of the customer service representatives just happened to be in my office trading some juicy new gossip. I'd like to say they waited to laugh until they made sure I was OK, but that might be a bit too generous. Within in a nanosecond everyone was doubled over choking out
"The look on your face...."
"Oh my god...."
"Can't breathe...." Between gasps for air.
Welcome to the workforce. Reputation established.
We sort of got into decorating the office in extravagant ways for every new holiday, painting the windows of the offices to advertise our savings/loan products in a holiday theme. This was in some ways nice, as down time could be spent painting windows rather then twiddling your thumbs waiting for the next customer to walk through the front door. At the front of the lobby was the phone desk. It was one of those regular industrial strength wooden office desks with drawers to the side. Attached to the left side running along the wall was one of those desk L-additions, with drawers on the left and no legs to the right where it was bolted (supposedly) to the other desk. This desk extension held the very large central phone for the branch office. I had phone duty that day and the phones were unusually quiet although the branch was full of people. We were decorating for Halloween, and one of my co-workers brought me several bags of fake cobwebs, construction paper and some plastic bats with instructions to "make a moon" and decorate the wall above my desk.
"Ok, sounds like fun." Right.
With my moon lovingly made, I kicked my shoes off and hopped up on my desk to start hanging things up. Everything was going smoothly on the left portion of the wall. Then I stepped to the right. This is the precise moment that I learned that my desk extension was not in fact bolted to to my desk. It gave out under my foot and all at once the branch phone was launched into the air, my desk chair took off of its own volition, and I commenced a swan dive directly onto my desk. Unable to restrain myself, and knowing how much it was going to hurt when I landed I yelled "Oh, SHIT!!!!!!" and then "Offff..." as all the air in my lungs got forced out as I landed on my stomach on top of my keyboard... There were these two old geezers in the end of the line, they managed to squeak out a "Are you OK?" to which I managed a nod, and then they lost it. I thought Angela (one of the tellers) was going to come over her teller window and run over. I managed to scramble up, right the desk, and retrieve my chair and shoes in that order. Both the manager and the assistant manager just happened to be in the vault during my little outburst of profanity, and for some reason not a single customer complained about my language... The two old geezers laughed their whole way through the line and out the door.