the fruits of autumn

so yesterday i donned a clothespin on my nose, put on sunglasses and ventured into the BMC headquarters to post my latest hum drum. but when i entered the shag carpeted room, i stopped, stared, stepped back out to check the number on the door, blinked, took off the sunglasses, stepped back in and let my jaw fall to the floor.

ellen is back.

i know most people dont read comments as religiously as Balddee, so please refer back to Harmon's shame-faced return for my comment about last week's awkward encounter.

it was embarassing (not for Todd). it was revolting (again, not for Todd). and it put me off cleaning for a good long time, especially since the last time the swiffer saw that much action, it was in Ellen's hands, who was wiping harmon's fluids from the tabletop a few months back.

ok, i'm exiting memory lane now. and showering. thoroughly.

anyways, so i'm in the headquarters, not expecting anyone to be there (and who could stay in there for more than a few minutes at a time - it stunk of sex and rotting bananas and the naked lightbulbs dangling from the ceiling were enough to blind a bat), i'm ready to fire up the computer, enter article, press "submit" and run outta there at top speed when what to my wondering eyes should appear, but Ellen the Intern-cum-Senior Vice President of Advertising.

smiling a Tom Cruise crazy-ass, pearly white smile, Ellen gestures to the table in front of her: carmel apples (6), cranberry torte (1), blueberry pie (1), double fudge brownies (2 dozen) and chocolate chip cookies (3 dozen). all of the goodies piled high on the checkered cloth, accented with seasonal gourds and a crock pot of spiced cider. i looked at Ellen and noticed that her left eyelid was twitching in an unnatural way. i followed her dazed, glossy eyes behind me. i turned around to behold a fresh coat of paint on the walls (a nice latte brown), all of the previously random literature sitting well-organized in seperate bookshelves and stacked on coffee tables - wait, coffee tables? yes, i saw brand new ikea tables, chairs, pictures, shelves and even a vase of fake flowers, standing solemnly in the windowsill.

"did you do this?" i ask

no reply. just a creepy jerking motion in her right shoulder.

please understand that when i agreed to bestow my presence at the BMC, i immediately tried to form an alliance with Ellen, the only other girl. but after a few fruitless attempts, we came to an understanding of respect (her to me) and distance (me to her). Now i can see that this distance was absolutely necessary. i can see that if i dont back slowly out of the room thisverysecond, that she will accost me, and i will know about Todd, the closet and the swiffer. in detail. i will also have to deal with the reprocussions and (probably) be her anchor and confidant about said events for the year to come.

so i casually pick up a cookie, shuffle my feet a bit, turn tail and RUN. and so, yet again, i am submitting via internet cafe, another article that was not what i had intended. but who else will report this shit to you guys? right?