Work Stories: Episode 54: Big Balls

Previously on Work Stories, I answered a few of the common irritating questions that I get at work.  Why did I answer them?  I thought it would be an interesting change of pace for the Work Stories.  That’s why I did that.  This week, I’m going to go back to normal and give all of you readers a Work Story that is just that.  It’s going to be a straight-forward story that happened at work.

As you may have already figured from many of my previous posts, a lot of the stories that I have written about thus far have involved the museum that I work at.  There are three big reasons for that.  The first is that I’ve worked there full time for two and a half years now, which is the most I’ve ever worked at one place.  The second reason is that it is located right in the middle of the tourist area of the city.  That brings out all of the tourists who only come to the city for this area.  The third, and final reason is that I’ve been given a lot of night shifts that go until two or three in the morning.  These shifts allow me to see a lot of drunken people, and with the drunks I get to witness some odd things.

As you might suspect, this week’s story also happened at night, with drunk people.  It’s something I’m used to.  Last call is at 2am around here, so when you get around 1am, the drunk people start stumbling around the streets.  They’re going back to their hotels, and doing funny stuff along the way.  I witness a lot of it.  This week’s story is one of those things.

In the lobby of the museum that I work at, there is a giant ball.  People come into the lobby all the time and touch the ball.  Or they get scared and think that they aren’t allowed to touch the ball and just stare at the person sitting behind the cash register.  It’s there to be touched, though.  Sometimes people get way too overexcited about our giant ball.  Sometimes they get more excited than a fat kid in a candy store.  I am not apologizing for that simile.

One night when I was the person manning the cash register, a group of drunk guys in their 20s came into the lobby to play with the ball.  Yeah, yeah.  20-something guys like to play with big balls.  Har-har.  Very funny slightly homophobic joke.  I made the joke.  I’m not sure what that means about me.  Anyway, these drunk guys came in and started touching the ball, which weighs 10000 pounds.  One guy jumps on top of the ball and spread eagles himself around it.  Then he turns his head to the other guys hanging around with him and he shouts “This ball is like a giant boob!”

I know I’ve said before that I’ve been stunned, astonished, and amazed by things that people have said in my presence.  This time was no different.  At what point in a woman’s life does her boob feel like a giant 10000 pound ball made of granite?  At no point.  That’s when.  I have never touched a boob, but even I know they don’t feel like boulders.  At least, they shouldn’t.  There would be something wrong with a woman whose boob had solidified like that.

Those guys left soon after the one guy said that.  I stayed right where I was with a dumbfounded look on my face.  My world changed after that night.  Not much, but that moment turned me into someone very slightly different.   I will never be the same as I was before that moment because I witnessed it.

That’s it for this week’s Work Story.  It was a tale of another thing I saw and heard while at work.  You know what?  I don’t mind this one.  As offensive as a couple of things may have been, at least it didn’t feel like forced writing.  Next week, I’ll attempt to recreate the enjoyable writing feeling that I got this week, but I probably won’t nail it.  That doesn’t matter though.  The important part is that I’ll be back next week with another Work Story because that’s what I do.  I write them for you.

Until then, it doesn't matter where you came from.  What matters is who you choose to be.