**Don’t forget to enter the Shabby Apple giveaway! Winner announced tomorrow!**
Now, while some people come into our office and say things that are just plain silly, other people say things that are, literally, unbelievable. From this week (and it’s only Wednesday morning):
“I have a doctor’s note. Uh…from…um…a doctor!” *
“I’ve, uh, locked myself out of my car. Don’t have my keys. Could you guys open it for me?”
“Can you prove ownership of the car?”
“Um, no. Can’t you just shoot the trunk lock open for me?” **
“You don’t understand, you are going to do what I tell you. Don’t you know who I am?” ***
* I am a rhinoceros. One of us is lying.
** I’ll bet lunch someone finds a body. Any takers?
*** No. I don’t. And since it’s my job to be painstakingly aware of all requisite movers and shakers, that ought to tell you something.
Small Dog Syndrome 
I especially love the last one. My common response is, ‘Actually, no, I don’t know who you are. I know all the important people by name and sight.’ While smiling sweetly.
I love the colors they turn and how they demand to speak to my boss. Only to have my boss back me up.
It must be hard for people to be important in the small land of their imagination.
Why have I never had a job where there is even a POSSIBILITY of getting to shoot a lock open?
What? No locks being shot off in Boston elementary schools?! Surely not!