by Bill Jones
Did you ever get sick of work? Me too. However, you should not let your enthusiasm hijack your common sense as is my habit. In my eagerness to get away for a day of painting at the lake, I told a rather implausible lie, er ah story. To make sure my boss didn’t try to override my excuse with his enthusiasm for me to get stuff done, I went a little overboard in the description of my injuries.
I told him that I had been hit by an 18 wheeler while crossing the street. Both thigh bones were broken, 3 ribs snapped, and 2 cracked vertebrae. I told him not to worry I should be in by the next day. So I’m thinking, “that ought to hold him ’til I get a rope.”
Later when the drink and handful of Vicodin wore off, it occurred to me I was going to have to act real sore at work. “Hell, I’m a good actor, I can pull this off”, I thought. Say, did you ever lie to yourself? Me too.
Well, anyway the next day I was limping around work like a 75 year old Chester. Moaning and groaning. This seemed to be going well until I was ambushed by an unexpected happy thought and started skipping down the block in view of my boss. Oops. I told him it was therapy suggested by my bulldog attorney. Sometimes dropping a name like that will halt further probing.