Trials of the Laminated List Part III

Eddie Chaz in his usual indifference to everything around him disregarded the wet floor sign and the fact that Fred from Maintenance was polishing the floors. Eddie slipped and fell. The List flew from his hand. As I ducked around the corner, I saw it slide like a hockey puck across the freshly polished floor and under the rumbling grind of the floor polishing machine. Before Fred had a chance to turn it off, the List spun around three times under the circular polisher and shot out like a ninja throwing star, striking Eddie just above the bridge of his nose as he lay sprawling by copy machine. I tiptoed across the shiny floor and picked up the laminated List while Eddie wept over what he decided was a permanent disfigurement, when it was really just a red mark between the eyes.

The List was unscathed, In fact, it was much shiner. Thanks to the Fellowes Saturn 95, the List had endured yet another trial. I tiptoed back across the floor whispering to myself like a mantra: “a laminated document is a safe document.”

The break room was in sight. I looked left and right for more hazards. But the coast was clear. The break room was empty, so with a sigh of relief I set down the List on the break room table and began unlocking the display case.

That’s when I heard a noise behind me similar to the sound of a handful of mud being thrown at the wall. I turned to see Gus from Finance slopping down his greasy, dripping triple bacon avocado ranch Godzilla burger with extra salsa and barbecue-- right on the List.

But I breathed easy. I was confident now that not even the greasy drippings of a Godzilla burger could defeat the laminating power of the Saturn 95.

“Gus,” I said, “watch where you put your lunch.”

“Oh sorry.” He had to scoop the dripping mess up with both hands.

“It’s okay,” I said and easily wiped the List clean with a napkin. “You see” I held it up proudly.

Gus stood there with his Godzilla burger dripping grease on the floor between his fingers. “Well of course,” he shrugged. “A laminated document is a safe document.”

After I had locked the List safely away in the display case, I returned to my cubicle, now a haven of rest, a sanctuary from my long journey. The phone rang. I answered. It was Jo-Beth. She said: “say, could you stop back by my office. I gave you the wrong document. That was our office supply inventory that I gave you. I still have the List right here on my desk….”

“But, but, it’s safe now…a laminated document is a safe--.”

“Oh that reminds me, when you bring back that inventory sheet I have to add laminating pouches to it—we’re all out. But that’s okay, you can take the List back without it, no problem right?”


Follow Cube Confessions for a completely new office adventure next month.