Messing With Shoelaces

Another slow night came and went at work today. I hate it when it’s slow. Every time I take a peek at my watch it feels like an hour or two should have passed but it’s only been ten minutes since the last check. When things are this slow my mind goes into mischievous overdrive and then dumb stuff happens. Tonight I talked Dr. Fist into pulling a prank on Shoelaces. The idea was to go up into the ceiling via Mezzanine level catwalks and pelt Shoelaces from above his workbench with garbage. Only problem was we weren’t sure where exactly his workbench would be located from up there. Can’t see through ceiling tiles you know and the catwalks might not be anywhere near where Shoelaces was sitting.

After Dr. Fist used his proxy card to unlock an access doorway to the Mezzanine, we stepped through to the main catwalk. Acting all serious like we were there for a legitimate reason both of us passed by a security camera and then promptly broke left onto another walkway. Following Dr. Fist through a rat maze of access doors we zig zagged across the building to where we thought Shoelaces bench was located. Neither one of us could see shit down below in the production area. Railings kept us from reaching out to lift ceiling tiles to spy and it was far too dangerous to even think about climbing over a railing to walk around out there. One wrong step and you’d plunge through cardboard thin tiles and white florescent light fixtures to smack a smooth concrete floor. That wouldn’t be good.

We knew Shoelaces must be close by but without having a clear view there was no way to be sure. Also, there wasn’t a good spot like a missing tile or a hole anywhere through which we could dump cans of garbage or throw stuff at him. Then I had an idea. Close to where I was standing there happened to be a computer rack with a bunch of phone equipment in it. Covered in dust there was an old black desk phone sitting at the bottom of that rack. I picked it up and to my surprise I heard a dial tone. I punched in Shoelaces’ extension. Not far away I heard his phone ringing, and a few seconds later Shoelaces answered. Heh. I engaged him in small talk while Dr. Fist hovered right over Shoelaces voice. I couldn’t think of much else to babble about and I was starting to laugh so I cut the conversation short. We could hear our unsuspecting victim walk back over to his technical workbench and sit down.

Improvising on the spot Dr. Fist reached over from where he was crouching on the catwalk and grabbed a long length of discarded phone cable from a small wastebasket. Poking the cable through a corner of a ceiling tile he slowly fed more and more downward. Neither one of us could see where it was going and we both had stupid grins on our faces. Everything was going well and then all of a sudden without warning the whole phone cable was yanked out of Dr. Fist’s grip. It disappeared instantly. We’d been caught. Apparently the cable landed on an instrument Shoelaces was troubleshooting but he didn’t notice it right away because he was looking at some schematics on his computer terminal. When he turned in his chair and spotted cable dangling down from the ceiling he snagged it and pulled hard. The jig was up.

Oh well, at least it helped waste some time and kept me from being completely bored.

~ by factorypeasant on September 26, 2006.