A Day In The Life…
“Special” Brownies
I once worked in an office with several other young women. We were all single and fun-loving, and there was always a lot of energy in our work environment.
A guy named Matt came in to look at an apartment one afternoon. He seemed to really like our community and ended up leasing with us. As he was leaving the office, he turned to us and exclaimed, “You gals are fun! It’s going to be a blast living here and partying with you!”
“Wow,” remarked one of my co-workers. “I hope we didn’t give him the wrong impression. Just because we all have a good time working together doesn’t mean we like to party”.
“Yeah, that was a little strange,” I agreed. “He was a little overly familiar. We probably need to keep things on a more professional level with everyone who comes into our office.”
In Strolled Matt
So, we dialed things back a bit, working hard to maintain a friendly, yet more professional environment. This is why I was surprised when Matt strolled into the office one day carrying a tray of delicious-looking brownies.
“Hello!” I greeted him with a smile. “How may I help you?” At the time, I was working alone since everyone else was either at lunch or out onsite.
I noticed Matt was looking around for my co-workers. “I baked these brownies special for you and the other girls,” he explained, holding up the tray.
There was something about the way he said the word “special” that gave me pause. “When you say that the brownies are “special,” what exactly do you mean by special?” I asked.
Let Him Squirm
Now Matt was beginning to look a bit nervous. I let him squirm for a few minutes, noticing he was slowly moving his try of special brownies behind his back. I couldn’t help myself—I was beginning to enjoy this!
“You know, our onsite police officer will be popping in here any moment. His name is Barry,” I remarked, giving a quick but nonchalant nod to the front door.
As Matt’s eyes grew larger, I continued, “Yeah, I found out that Barry works in the Narcotics Division of the Austin Police Department. Sometimes he even brings Scout, his German Shepherd in with him.”
I sighed and added, “That is such a beautiful dog! And, so smart! Barry says he can sniff out all kinds of drugs!”
Matt slowly edged toward the back door. “You know,” he stammered. “I think I’ll come back another time. Let’s not worry about the brownies, okay? They’re probably not that great anyway. I mean, what do I know about baking?”
Substandard Brownies
“Well, if you’re sure,” I replied. “We wouldn’t want to eat substandard baked goods. All of us here are really great cooks. And, by the way, none of us are into drugs—and we don’t “party” with our residents. That’s against our company policy.”
I stood and fixed him with a serious smile knowing he was reading between the lines. “Just to be clear,” I emphasized. “Are we clear, Matt?”
“Crystal!” Matt replied. “See ya later!” And with that, he took his special brownies and made a hasty exit.
I gathered my staff later and told them about Matt’s visit. They all found the story hilarious when I described the panicked look on our resident’s face when he thought he might be busted for whatever he’d put in the brownies to make them so special.
“You should have called Barry,” our assistant manager said. “That would have really freaked Matt out!”
Our leasing agent who’d kept silent during most of the conversation let out a sigh. “Couldn’t you just have let him leave us just one of those brownies?” she asked.
Taken from the book, I Have A Complex, But I’m Managing It!
