Some of my peeps, yo

As I entered the building into work one recent morning, I noticed a substantially overweight fellow employee out of the corner of my eye coming in behind me. Both of us work several floors above the floor of the building entrance, which opens onto a half-flight of stairs, so you have to walk either up or down a few steps to get the elevator. I went in, walked up as usual, and pressed the elevator button. After a longer-then-usual time, it arrived, already bearing said fellow employee, who had walked DOWN the entry stairs, thus avoiding any uphill walking and necessitating an additional floor of elevator ride.

SOFE (cheerfully): "Hi! I didn't expect to see you in here!"

Me: Something vague and unintelligible

MOFE: "Did you know that Cadbury has a new Easter egg flavor? Orange whip! And it wasn't all that bad!"

Me: Now totally unable to respond due acid-like flashback to another SOFE from years ago who squealed with delight in the run-up to Easter because now she could buy as many packages of Marshmallow Peeps as she could stuff into her mouth. Subsequent second flashback to yet another former co-worker, not overweight but alcoholic and with a generally disgusting personality, who once announced in his boorish gravelly voice in the office, "I SEE ABSOLUT HAS COME OUT WITH A BLACKBERRY PRODUCT!"

Side note: I always learn something from blogging — about myself, the world, or both. As I was doing my usual diligent research for this post, I found that the health of Peeps (though not necessarily that of humans who consume them) has been the subject of rigorous scientific research. And did you also know that you can stage mortal combat between Peeps in your own home with nothing more than a toothpick and a microwave? I would try it myself if I could stand to even have the damn things in my house. But it does inspire me to try grape racing, which I read about years ago in a Dave Barry column but have never tried. "Grapes, start your engines. And... they're off!"

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