Coach’s Swan Song


This is it people. The last you’ll hear from ol’ Coach. Sometimes something happens that is so preposterous and simple you have to come out of blog retirement just to vent about it. I work in an office (sick brag) and part of my daily duties is to answer the phone. There are 7 people in the office, and we all rotate who answers the phone. Some of us answer more than others (points finger at self.) 

I don’t know if you’ve been in an office or dealt with modern technology in an office setting, but there’s this cool little feature where you can put shortcuts to transfer to different people’s line on your phone display. Crazy, I know. Even crazier…there’s a little green or red light next to that persons name that indicates whether or not that person has a clear line, or if they are currently on the phone. I’m here to say that this ingenious invention is right up there with the moon landing.

It’s December, more importantly, it’s officially half way through December/10 days out from Christmas. Nobody wants to be working right now except the Dads out there actively avoiding their family. For some reason, Dads avoiding family around Christmas time is like sweet black tar heroin. For the office worker sans kids, that sweet black tar heroin is just doing the minimal amount of work to say that you’re working, but really you’re not.For those unfamiliar with this time of year, it’s called mail time. Just mailing it in and putting any and everything off until that calendar reads 2017. Once it’s 2017, you get the greatest gift of all. You can forget everything you didn’t do in 2016 and conveniently say it slipped through the 2016 cracks, and chalk it up as a win. It’s a flawless system.

I tell you all of that for this.

I’m the youngest person in my office by about 20 years. Not ideal, but it really allows me to seem way more important than I am. I have no problem with updates or technological advances, and my company values that because half of the office learned how to copy and paste because I taught them.

My coworker, who’s trying to out mail the mail time king, just pulled one of the more diabolical, un-thought through mail time moves I’ve ever witnessed. The phone rang, I answered (shocker) and I looked up and saw my co-worker with the phone headpiece at her ear. The phone call I received was for her, so I went about my business and prepared to launch the call into her voicemail like Kyrie from 3. As I was about to, I looked at my aforementioned directory, and I saw that her line was in fact clear. I asked her if she was on the phone or about to make a call, and she reached out, touched her mute button, and said yes she was on a call.

But her light was green.

Being the piece of shit that I am, I decided that I was going to forward the call to her line anyway. Chalk it up to forgetting to hit pound to send it to voicemail, I don’t know, I’m better at lying on the fly than I am preparing for one ahead of time. Fun other little office fact about office phones…if you are on the line with someone, your phone doesn’t ring. Your display just shows you have another incoming call and allows you to ignore it. You’ve all used phones, I don’t know why I’m explaining this.

Oh, yes I do, because this person I work with clearly thinks I’ve never used a phone before.

I transferred the call and lit up like a Christmas tree when I heard her phone ring it’s little ass off. She looked up at me, headpiece still wedged between her fat chin and God awful pixie mom haircut, looked back down at the phone, and answered the call. Like the Grinch, my heart grew 3 times it’s normal size.

I’m not saying vigilante justice is the best feeling on this planet. The rush of catching somebody in a lie and calling them out on their bullshit is a fickle thing. Sometimes, it’s just not worth the fight. Sometimes, you got to let the liar lie while you lay low and wait for the perfect time to strike; when you hold all of the cards. If you’re patient, and inquisitive, you too can have a Walter White Face Off moment and blow that sucker up like a balloon full of hand grenades. The older you get, the fewer the smiles you have left in you that aren’t fake. This was not a fake smile moment. I had to hide my face behind my monitor I was so giddy. It was a perfect storm.

…I wish I could say this story ends with myself continuing to mail it in.

But M. Night Shyamalan couldn’t have predicted what happened next.

The bitch up and just went home and said she was feeling sick. Just removed herself from the awkward equation all together. She came in 25 minutes late today, unsuccessfully tried to pretend to be on a non-existent phone call every time the phone rang for 2 hours, and then once her cover was blown just up and left.


I’ve lived through a lot of shrapnel in my day. I had an adult female and mother of 2 once not come in the office because she fell and scraped her knees at the end of a driveway. I’ve been fired on my last day of work for signing “Turd Ferguson” on a excel spreadsheet that only I used instead of my actual name. A dear friend of mine once wrote an email to an entire multi-million dollar company asking to pull a prank on me by saying someone who quit on a day I was sick actually got fired for spitting on the COO, and lived to tell the tale. But this, this is the one. This is the story that will kill me.

Farewell my friends.




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