Friday, May 15, 2009

Friday Tribute: Free Beer and Pizza

Since I haven't found any rainbows or unicorns yet, and since I brought you all to tears the last two Fridays with my sentimental tributes, this week we’re celebrating something a little different. And that is free beer and pizza. In an office.

It’s really been a magical day of indentured servitude. Err, interning. First, I attempted to sneak in unnoticed at 9:35. Of course I tripped over my flip flop—yes, I’m allowed to wear flip flops—and made a big smacking noise on the floor as I walked in, so that failed. But then I looked around and realized something: I am invisible. No one turned from a computer screen. Half of the people weren’t even here yet.

The day just kept getting better. I started two writing assignments—one for Betty Crocker’s website about “quick and easy dinners” and another one for Chick-Fil-A’s company magazine. I have spent a large chunk of my day writing about planning a taco night with your family. I find this hilarious and wonderful. I’m going to tell all of my friends I’m planning to host a taquisa. Bet you don’t know what that is! But I do! It’s a taco party!

Just as I was craving tacos and starting to write a grocery list so I could throw a taquisa for me and the cats tonight, I smelled pizza. Next thing I know, I’m in a conference room looking for the veggie pizzas and talking to some guy about IU. This was also the moment that I realized my eyes were completely bloodshot from my allergies, my hair is in a messy braid, I’m dressed like a pseudo-hippie, and I’m talking about going to a Big Ten school. I might as well have said, "Are you cool, man?"

I scurried out of the conference room and stared down at my plate of pizza all the way back to my desk.

I spent the next several hours diligently working on my masterpiece about tacos and pretending to be invisible. Suddenly, a woman pushing a cooler appears at my desk and offers me a beer.

Well, T-G-I-Fucking-F.

This is so wonderful I’m ignoring the fact that she asked me if I was of age and that the beer she handed me was a Miller Lite. If she had pulled a Stella out of that cooler I probably would have kissed her.

Great start to the weekend!


  1. Your hate of Miller Light must stop

  2. It's so bad, C. You and I both know that.

  3. Miller light sucks and you tend to believe that you are invisible often. I dont know of anything further from the truth.