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I've truly sunk to a
new low. My division at work was invited to a party here to celebrate
being a division--two weeks after our division was re-orged out of
existence. Talk about a comedown. Here were a bunch of people I was
no longer connected with in a bizarre place at a party thrown by people
I no longer reported to. The nice part, I suppose, is that everything
was still free. Granted, I had so much work (the party was in the
early afternoon), that I only had time to gobble a few semi-decent
wings in a side room that had all the aesthetic of a phone booth.
I was actually about to take off, depressed and stressed out of my
skull, before a former co-worker (and former NJ cop) told me that
I needed to come shoot some shit with her. I kinda mistook her statement
as "shoot the shit" and started to take off, cuz who needed
to talk about the unhappiness that Dave and Buster's was compounding
with its oddball darkness, antiseptic surroundings and mid-afternoon
emptiness. Turns out she literally wanted to play this standup shooter
game with the freebie cards we got from our generous employer. So
I stood there and shot and reloaded and shot and reloaded and died
and reloaded... And I gotta say that after a half hour of blowing
away baddies, I felt pretty damn good. So despite being lured into
this pit of despair by the prospect of free wings and beer and kissing
up to whomever was going to be my new boss' boss, I walked away with
a new found respect for gratuitous video game violence and aggression
aversion therapy. [MF]
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