Papi Got a Brand New Gag

In a workplace where you regularly cross paths with the same individuals, after a very short while, you develop and share a very special greeting with certain co-workers. They come in the form of elaborate hand shake and slap-me-some-skin combos, fist knocking, forearm/body check, thumbs up in passing, Dokken Rock Lock, what have you.

Rodrigo Marquez usually greets me with a middle finger or with some form of metal rod or bar as mock weapon. After four years, I find it funny because I have to. It’s a choice in the same way naked pyramid with a bag on your head is a choice. Another greeting I "choose" to find funny after four years is Karate Kid Hello from Jesus Jimenez. I made the mistake in September 2003 of doing Danielsan’s signature Crane Pose while passing Jesus. Jesus held on to this tighter than Clear Channel’s death grip of the FCC.

I get the Crane about two or three times a day and by my estimate, I've received it a total of 2400 times to date. If I had to, I could carve a perfect marble replica of Jesus doing Crane, from memory. Not even his family would know the difference. All four boys would be screaming "Papi! Papi! Papi!" all day until I gave them the bad news. Kids, this is marble, your father is at the racetrack.

Yesterday morning, Terrence in shipping walked in on me studying the world map, in the office bathroom, on the toilet, with my pants down. I locked the door, but it did not completely engage the strike plate. It looked closed enough. So just as I was following my regular post-coffee load lightening, the door swung slowly open. I could do nothing but smile and wave, much to Terrence’s surprise.

Not a big deal. We laughed about it later.

Today, as I entered the shop, Jesus stood with Terrence and others, namely Rodrigo at the double doors. Through the glass, Jesus began pointing frantically at my eyes, his eyes, Terrence’s eyes, and he could not control his excitement. I opened the door to the energy of eighteen border collie pups that hadn’t been beaten in five months, all screaming, "Child Molester! That's his new name. Maybe you should have him check his glasses. I hope you are okay my friend! You should be careful next time."

I'm not sure how I walked away without participating in the scat party that followed. I'm also not sure how Child Molester is going to be elegantly incorporated as Terrence's new moniker. What is my new name? They used to call me Monica, after the person I replaced. It took seven months for me to earn back my everyday name. What I do know is that the Crane may soon be retired and a new, more unforgettable greeting is in the works.