Generally
speaking, I'm one of the easiest to get along with people you'll ever
meet. I do, however, have a sense of humour and that means that just
sometimes, I can be a pain in the posterior. This was one of those
moments.
I
sometimes work in the kitchen at my place of employment. Favourite
post is working on the grill. Most of the other work stations are
less than perfect for my tall skinny frame. I can work them but my
lower back will start protesting.
Grill
gloves are plastic disposable hand gear with some heat resistance for
handling raw meat. After handling the raw meat, they're peeled off
and thrown away. This is to avoid contamination of the finished
product. If you take them off just right, you can trap a significant
amount of air in the glove especially the fingers and then pop them.
I've gotten rather good at it.
One of
my co-workers finds the pop sound annoying and I find his reaction
amusing. I was having fun popping the gloves when I was finished with
them. Anyone who's ever gotten into popping bubble wrap, can
understand my mind set. Hey, it's therapeutic. Don't knock it.
I
managed to get three pops out of one glove, three separate fingers, a
personal best. This was when my co-worker's requests for me to stop
went from polite to more hostile demands.
“Pop!
Pop! Pop!”
“Arrgh!
Just stop already!”
I gave
it a rest for a little while. Didn't want to rile him up too much or
too fast. I waited for him to forget about it before doing it again.
“Pop!”
“Hey!
What did I say to you? Don't do that anymore!”
“It
was just thumb. Relax.”
“Just
stop. Okay!”
I knew
I was starting to push his buttons but I had a great way to finish
this and I had to have one more go.
“Pop!”
He
turns glaring at me, but before he can say another word, I say, “That
was the middle finger.”
The
rest of us laughed our heads off over that.
