Monday, April 10, 2006
An Eye for an Eye
I can think of nothing sweeter than revenge - revenge that is complete, appropriate, and final. That’s what today’s little story is about. It’s a true story, and joy of joys, I’m the hero.
The triggering incident took place at work on a Monday during July in the mid 1970's.
We were at lunch in the coffee shop of the Barbizon Hotel. A jokester companion ordered his usual lunch - a can of tuna on toast with a thick slice of tomato and an even thicker slice of raw onion. I suppose it was a healthful lunch - it must have been because it smelled terrible.
From lunch we went directly to a meeting in the President’s office. We sat side by side on a couch, and while I was expostulating on some doubtlessly important subject, the jokester held his hand in front of his mouth and blew steadily into it , directing the stream of fumes directly at me.
Clearly such an egregious act merited a swift and punishing revenge.
That afternoon, I went to the Bloomingdale’s Delicacy Shop and purchased a quarter pound of Limburger cheese. At this point I should probably interrupt the story to describe the awful stench of Limburger cheese. If its fragrance is foreign to you, do not track down a sample and smell it for yourself. Trust me. It’s an experience you can do without.
I placed the cheese on a sunny outdoor windowsill, where by mid-morning on Tuesday, it was runny and overripe. When jokester went to lunch, I placed the cheese in an open slot in the credenza behind his desk
Then I waited. At least I waited as long as I could, and at about one-thirty I could wait no longer.
I looked in at his office, only to see that he had an after lunch meeting scheduled with the company President. They were walking around, pointing at the vents in the ceiling, thinking that some dead animal had begun to rot.
I went back to my office pleased with the comforting notion that justice had been done.
To this day, those of us who know of the incident, consider it the best of the gags any of us pulled, even better than the dead fish in the interoffice mail.
The triggering incident took place at work on a Monday during July in the mid 1970's.
We were at lunch in the coffee shop of the Barbizon Hotel. A jokester companion ordered his usual lunch - a can of tuna on toast with a thick slice of tomato and an even thicker slice of raw onion. I suppose it was a healthful lunch - it must have been because it smelled terrible.
From lunch we went directly to a meeting in the President’s office. We sat side by side on a couch, and while I was expostulating on some doubtlessly important subject, the jokester held his hand in front of his mouth and blew steadily into it , directing the stream of fumes directly at me.
Clearly such an egregious act merited a swift and punishing revenge.
That afternoon, I went to the Bloomingdale’s Delicacy Shop and purchased a quarter pound of Limburger cheese. At this point I should probably interrupt the story to describe the awful stench of Limburger cheese. If its fragrance is foreign to you, do not track down a sample and smell it for yourself. Trust me. It’s an experience you can do without.
I placed the cheese on a sunny outdoor windowsill, where by mid-morning on Tuesday, it was runny and overripe. When jokester went to lunch, I placed the cheese in an open slot in the credenza behind his desk
Then I waited. At least I waited as long as I could, and at about one-thirty I could wait no longer.
I looked in at his office, only to see that he had an after lunch meeting scheduled with the company President. They were walking around, pointing at the vents in the ceiling, thinking that some dead animal had begun to rot.
I went back to my office pleased with the comforting notion that justice had been done.
To this day, those of us who know of the incident, consider it the best of the gags any of us pulled, even better than the dead fish in the interoffice mail.
