Meet The Fockers...I Work With (Part Deux)

So, a while back I had a meeting in which there were multiple attendees. I happened to get there early, as did the individual I will refer to as Harvard. I stroll in, find a seat and dispense with the usual small talk

Me: “Hi Harvard, how’s it going?”

Harvard: “Well, hello there Rocky. I trust that you are having a pleasant afternoon. It is a pleasure to have this opportunity to converse prior to the start of the meeting.”

-pause- People, I shit you not, they’re all robots and speak like this. This is not a lie.

Harvard: “So Rocky, from where did you receive your undergraduate degree?”

Me: “{Large Midwestern State School}”

-pause- Let me give you a little background here. I already know where this wiener went to school. Hell, he practically has it engraved on his cuff-links and 4 pound gold bracelet that looks like something out of the Godfather jewelry store. He of course has no idea that I know…

Harvard: “That’s quite surprising Rocky, as my father is also a LMSS man”

-pause- Yes, Harvard did use the word “man” following the school name. It was also said in that Judge Smails from Caddyshack sort of way. I’m surprised Harvard didn’t say “well, the world needs ditch diggers too.”

Me (returning the favor): “Where’d you go?”

Harvard: “Well Rocky, I did my undergraduate studies at the University of Small Liberal Arts College. It was rather well known for molding the future leaders of this great nation, and preparing each of its graduates for the next level”

-pause- This is what wieners say when they’re ashamed of the place they attended; throwing in some stupidly ambiguous fact that could apply to any school across the land. He still hasn’t dropped the Harvard name yet and I can almost see the eagerness in his eyes…dying for me to ask where he went to grad school. It was like a little puppy begging for that last piece of steak on the plate.

Seeing it wasn’t going to be easy, Harvard attempts to bait me a little…

Harvard: “Rocky, did you pursue graduate studies?”

Me: “yep”

Harvard: “And what institution would that have been?”

-pause- knowing that Harvard didn’t give 2 shits where I went, I decided to make up something so random…

Me: “I actually went to a small grad school in the Philippines”

Harvard: “Interesting.”

-pause- Across the table I think I can see a bit of drool exiting the corner of Harvard’s mouth as he waits for me to ask the question. It’s like having a dog and you do the fake toss across the room…and he runs for the ball, but none is there, only to see that it’s still in your hand.

Me: “Sooooo…….{long dramatic pause to let the anticipation build}…..where'd you go to grad school?”

Harvard leans back in his chair, as if in his own office surrounded by leather bound books and mahogany furniture. Does a quick touch to each cuff-link with the opposing hand, just to show that his hardware was in tact, and flash a little material superiority in my direction.

Harvard: “{clears his throat a bit}”

Harvard then takes his fore finger and thumb on both hands in a pinching manner, starting at the top of his diagonally striped tie, and makes a downward stroking motion all the way to the tip, and states…in that Judge Smails tone…

Harvard: “Haaa-vaaard”

I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to start stroking him off right then and there, or wait until more people had arrived.

It was all I could do not to stand up, and in a hysterical laugh say, “you’re such a giant wiener!”, and walk out of the room.



Check back for this regular column where I'll introduce you to other spectacular work characters.