So my boss asked me to be in at 8 AM today because we have this big media event this morning. I'm in at 7:45. At 8:30, no sign of him, but I bring all rthe big boxes down to the lobby so we can load up as soon as hes' here. 8:40, no dice. 8:50- His car broke down, but he got a jump and he's on his way here. he shows up at 9:20, we load up and head to teh other office because he needs a handcart. He doubleparks outside the office on Broadway. In front of a cop car. So the cop comes back and he's pissed because he's blocked in. I offer to move the car, but it's a Jeep from when like. Jeeps were hardcore off-road vehicles. This thing has like 4 shifts and 3 sticks and I wobble them for awhile and the car lurches forward and the cop leaves me alone.
My boss gets the handcart and we go to the event. He departs, I lug the stuff upstairs and start unpacking with a co-worker.
Nobody packed peanut butter. We're a PB company, we have no peanut butter at the event. I'm in sort of a subway deadzone. I do the math and realize that I can either run 15 blocks, grab the PB and run back or run 5 blocks, take a subway and run another three blocks or take a cab. I hail a cab and realize I have no money, nor a cellphone. My boss's phone died so I loaned him mine. So I go to head back into the event, but the door Nazis won't let me without a pass, which my boss has, but he's gone already. I decide to run/subway , except I forget that if you're going to take the ACE at Times Square you have to fucking run like a half mile underground to get there. It's like 200 degrees. I'm a wreck. I take the A to Columbus Circle, run 2 more blocks and get 24 jars of peanut butter. Only we don't have any bags because they're- Ta-Da!- at the event. So I go downstairs to the recycling/trash and fish some bags out. Now I'm carrying like 30 pounds of peanut butter in 5 bags hanging off my body. I run/jog back to the event. I figure we'll set up, I'll chill out, taste some samples. The girls in the enxt booth over are from some booze company and they're making cocktails. This is a dream come true after the long run.
Only it's not. Somewhere something got fucked and the event Nazis tell us that we're only allowed 2 people to a booth. Our PR lady has to be there and the Marketing Manager has like 5 years on me so I'm out the door. But whatever, I've got cold chinese in the fridge and I'm hungry as hell because I didn't eat breakfast. So I get back tio the office, reach inside the fridge, pluck my cold chinese only to realize.
I grabbed two fucking cartons of motherfuckin' white rice.
