Sticking it to the Man

Anyone who knows me can tell you that I am not a morning person. I never have been, nor will I ever be a morning person. No, I did not wake up on the wrong side of my bed, thank you very much. I happen to sleep in the middle of my bed, sometimes diagonally, not favoring one side over the other. I’m just not walkin’ on sunshine the minute my feet touch the ground. I will, however, at LEAST say “good morning” ….most times. I just need a minute (or 30). But by the time I get to work, I’ve come to terms with the fact that I will not be enjoying the sweet, serene view of the insides of my eyelids, but rather a panoramic view of the City of Houston for the next 9 hours. I greet everyone who walks in with a smile, a “good morning”, and to a lucky bunch- a little small talk. All except for one person, one Very Important Person, return the favor. He saunters in at a quarter ‘til 9, briefcase in hand. I extend a greeting.

“Good morning!”

*…crickets...sideways stare…continues around the corner…*

Ummmmm...do I have something in my teeth? Was I speaking in tongues? Hello, can you hear me? Hell’s bells, am I a mute?! Excuse me,  sir , I said good morning! Don’t you have anything to say? I saw you make eye contact! That’s just as rude as when someone offers to let you in front of them in traffic and you don’t give them a courtesy wave! BLASPHEMY! (Side note to Mom & Dad- sorry for being such a morning crank growing up…but I feel as though I’ve improved a little, no?)

What’s that innocuous saying? Oh, yes- “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.” I’m no quitter! I continue my barrage of greetings every morning just to see if I get even the slightest grin or whisper in return, but now I’ve got so many crickets I could open a snake feed store. Hmph!

I understand I’m not the only non-morning person in the world, so you may need an additional minute (or 90) once you get to work before you acknowledge anyone. I also understand that a person of your esteemed rank normally doesn’t interact with the peons and minions. I get it. I’m the low man on the totem pole…but I can only go up from here!  If I remember correctly, you were a frat daddy at that other school up the road, so I know for a fact you’ve got some social skills. All jokes aside, you’re a grown man and a leader; will a little courtesy kill you? Think your attempts at ignoring me will condition me into ceasing my innate Southern hospitality? FALSE! If you knew me, which you don’t,  sir , you’d also know that I like to have a little fun and mess with people. Challenge accepted! I’ll see your crickets, and raise you a “Have a good evening!”

A few weeks go by, crickets multiply further. Then one day, I noticed a pattern of sorts- a pattern of very acute and subtle cues. Eureka! Houston, we have communication. Albeit in the form of a non-verbal gesture, it’s still by modern definition, communication. I’ll take it. You think you’re pretty sly,  sir , don’t you? Sthneaky little sthnaaaake! Now I’ve got you.

Allow me to demonstrate what I like to call the “If, Then” cues of the man and his resulting mood.

*Moods subject to change rapidly, and varies between people.

After close examination, it’s nothing personal. It’s just the luck of the draw, I guess. But GOOD MORNING, DAMN IT!


P.S.
You're singing "Carry On My Wayward Son", aren't you? Sorry. If it's any consolation, it's stuck in my head too.

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