the office mascot

Three months ago I brought a grapefruit to work.

It's still there. It's shriveled and not very grapefruit-looking anymore, and in fact more closely resembles a pathetic orange, but it's hung in there. Boss-Lady, in her crusade to make me eat more, found it on the table in the break room, and put it next to the coffee maker a couple of weeks ago, with EAT ME!!! written on it in green marker.

So I turned it around and drew x'd out eyes and a Mr. Yuk mouth in black ink.

It was all downhill from there. The next time I went up to pour myself a cup of coffee, the thing had paperclip ears. I found a kitchen knife and stuck it in the top of the head. A hook nose appeared. I added a coffee filter skirt. She gave it pencil legs. I decked it out in key-tab earrings.

So there she stands in macabre glory in the breakroom, our office mascot, whom I've secretly named Griselda. The grapefruit was so dried-out it didn't run any juice at all when stabbed with all the various things we stuck into it. (Glad I didn't eat it.) I think she's kind of endearing.

Obviously Boss-Lady and I have been under various pressures that lead us to take strange morbid vengeance on innocent fruit. Our office mascot can't be a nice fluffy puppy or a duckling. And we certainly can't display it in the front office. We showed the Boss-Man, after hours one day, laughing our heads off, and he looked worried. I took advantage of the opportunity to summarize the historical premise of Beloved.