Wednesday, December 23, 2009

I Have To Get This Off My Chest, But Cryptically

Was working. Feeling confident. Was asked to speak up. Did and was not discouraged to keep speaking up.

My job was to give two sets of numbers as accurately as possible through the game. I did, and I thought I was doing a pretty good job. And so when I heard someone yelling out, "2-9," I, being an expert at these two sets of numbers, piped up and corrected him: "3-9!" This guys says "2-9" again, so dammit, I yelled back -- "3-9!"

He didn't say another word. I win! Then I felt this chilly wave spill over me. That's when the co-worker to the right of me started saying, "No," like I didn't get it. And then I realized I really didn't get it. His shouting of "2-9" didn't have to do with my thing ... but the length of the upcoming field goal attempt.

Blergh. Wow, I must've sounded like a bellowing jackass. I was so ashamed of my mistake that I kind of shut down. I didn't update my numbers as the game went along as well as I could, so when I was asked for them, I think I gave inaccurate numbers.

Oh well. That one guy must think I'm a douche. But at least I got paid, and at an hourly rate higher than I usually get. Maybe my "boss" overlooked my spouting off and thought I was helpful. I hope he hires me again. I need the money.

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