It’s Super Bowl Monday

When I was a kid I had some pretty grandiose visions of what I wanted to be when I grew up. Start with your standard pro football or baseball player, fighter pilot, astronaut, things like that. Also on the list was sportscaster. A chance to sit up there on the set in Bristol alongside the likes of Stu Scott (RIP) and SVP would have meant the world, but one college degree that has yet to be put to full use and two full decades later and I’m about as far away from a green screen as Aaron Hernandez is from a football field. However, that all changes today, my friends. I, along with everyone else in the working world will get a chance to live out our broadcasting dreams because it’s Super Bowl Monday and everyone in your office magically turned into world class sports analysts overnight. The second you walked into the office this morning you were immediately surrounded by the best and brightest experts on the planet just like if you worked at Fox or CBS or ESPN. All this time who would have known that Jim from accounting held the key to stopping the Panther’s 6’6, 250 lb. NFL MVP? How many people knew that Rick from across the hall spent his free time analyzing offensive sets blocking protections? Did you miss the over/under? Well if you had just listened to Stan the Man last week you would have nailed the last leg of that parlay. Even Tina from HR gave a touching tribute to Peyton Manning that would make an Arthur Ashe Award acceptance speech seem like a Knibb High School academic decathlon speech. Why is all of this happening now? Where was all of this before? Because it’s Super Bowl Monday. So plaster a smile on your face, practice your fake laugh and buckle up because it’s going to be one of the most socially awkward, soul crushing days of the entire work calendar.

PS- The only reason I really had time to write this is because the janitors are cleaning the bathrooms on my floor right now. Less than 12 hours since everyone in the building was feasting on wings, buffalo chicken dip, and everything else that keeps Tums in business and you got these custodial revolutionaries scrubbing away like a Canadian curling team in a gold medal match. This isn’t the first time these guys have had the John closed early in the work day and normally I just go about my business without saying anything, but Super Bowl Monday might be the straw that breaks the Camel’s back. I appreciate a clean shitter as much as the next guy, but closing the bathroom for a good scrub during prime hours the morning after Super Bowl is a straight up criminal offense. Might be time to speak up.

About Q-Ball

Owner, operator AKA The Commish. Q-Ball is that asshole at the office who refuses to brew a fresh pot of coffee. Not because he doesn't want to, he's just too embarrassed to admit that he doesn't know how.
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