I was watching American Gladiators today
YES…..
AMERICAN GLADIATORS!
As opposed to Russian or Central American Gladiators.
One may question why anyone with standards or a life would watch such a program*…but I have three words for you: Men In Spandex.
Pure 100% Genuine 1980’s SPANDEX.
Spandex. Wrapping approximately eight men with physiques even Chuck Norris would envy, like glistening Christmas presents on a hot summer day AND they run around and wrestle each other like Greek Olympians, only they aren’t Greek and this isn’t the Olympics…it’s
AMERICAN GLADIATORS!
Yeah Man.
Anyway. While I was watching A.G.! My mum handed me a stack of mail she had kept safe for me during my 10 day hiatus in Holland and Chicago. (Believe it or not Holland and Chicago are basically the same city. Ripley. Believe it!) I rummaged through the thick pile and concluded that it was basically a compendium of JUNK. The very last article in the pile was a relatively bulky envelope with the word CONFIDENTIAL stamped across it in RED, dictating a sense of authoritative urgency that I felt I definitely should not ignore this ominous package. (I thought I PAID all of my tickets!!!! I don’t want to go to jail!!!!!!)
I opened it carefully since it could have been a bomb or anthrax or something. Being the important public figure I am, I figured this letter was warning me of a secret attempt against my life, or it was the attempt itself.
Finally I was able to bypass the annoyingly secure flap that had been adhered by 20,000 pounds of super-glue, and I realized it was an unnecessarily large packet from my former employer “JPChorgan Mase Bank” **
The packet is titled, “Everything You Need to Do Before You Leave”
Okkayy. It might as well have been titled, “We are Going to Kill You For Quitting”
I decided to venture further and read this mini-choose-your-own-adventure book from the bank, it could be fun…
“Step One: Inform your manager that you plan on terminating your position at JPChorgan Mase.”
Uhhh….I thought I made that very clear by QUITTING!
“Step Two: Return all keys, I.D. cards, laptops, codes, and combinations to either the manager or assistant manager AND another person of authority complying with all Duel Control methods within the policies and procedures of the branch.
Whoa Whoa wait…..what is this Jurassic Park?! The closest thing I had to an I.D. card was a cardboard tag with some silly promotion plastered all over it…OPEN NEW CHECKING! GET $50!!!!!!YAYYYYYyyyyyyyyayyyYYYY!!LOOK AT THIS PICTURE OF A MUFFIN! CLEVER MARKETING!! YAYYyyyyyyyyYYY!! WE GET YOU MAN! WE KNOW WHAT YOU WANT! SEE! WE ARE FUN! SO OPEN AN ACCOUNT!!!!!MUFFINS ARE COOL! WE ARE YOUR FRIENDS!!!!!!!
And what is all this talk about laptops…PLURAL?!?! I do not remember ever receiving a laptop EVER. IN MY LIFE.
They must have sent me the “We Give This Packet to Everyone-Even the Poor People Who Work Full Time Without Benefits for Nine Dollars and Hour Because We Want to Save Money Making Packets So We Can Afford To Give Some of the Higher Up People Laptops” packet.
Thanks.
So I skim down the page, figuring I already completed all of their obvious and asinine tasks-when I came across a paragraph titled,
“In Case You Die”
What?
What have I gotten my self into?!? Did I accidentally sign a blood oath binding me to this company for the rest of my mundane life?!?!?!?!
“If you die before receiving all of your benefits, your beneficiary will then in turn become the recipient of those benefits. Also, any balances in your account(s) will also be relinquished to your designated beneficiary.”
Oh good.
I’m soooo glad my five dollars and thirty six cents will be in good hands. NOW I can die in peace knowing my money is safe AND that I DID do “Everything I Needed to Do Before I Left That Crazy MotherF*@ing Bank.”***
Thank you JPChorgan Mase. For all that you do.
You can expect a packet from me titled, “Thanks JPChorgan Mase For Letting Me Work At Your Bank For A Year And Helping Me Reach The Highest Level Of InSaNiTy A Person Can Obtain While Still Being Able To Function As A Human Being—And By Human I Meant To Say Robot Guardian Slave To Your Precious Disgusting Good For Nothing Dirrrty Money That I Wish I Could Burn But I Don’t Want To Go To Prison Anytime Soon Because I Have Screws In My Feet And I Would Get My JPChorgan ASS Kicked If I Ever Set Foot (no pun intended) In Said Institution.”
It might take a few weeks for me to get started on that packet though.
I have a whole marathon of
AMERICAN GLADIATORS!
to get back to.
On that note: Is anyone hiring?!?! Preferably in Chicago?!?!
* I have neither a life nor standards
** I don’t want to be sued so I changed the name of the institution of the bank I used to work for. Funny story though, I used to baby-sit for a guy named J.P. and his son’s name was Morgan and I used to Chase him around all over the place. Just a story that popped in my head. Popped or Pooped. Your choice. Weatherball Poop.
*** The bank was quite unpleasant but I ADORE the people I worked with. Someday I will save them from that wretched institution.
