The Fall of Demetrius “Dabmaster” Yeet and the Day of the Hoochie Coochie: a tragedy
I work with a bunch of absolute TROLLS.
So. Once a month each of us floor staff have an hour “supervision” meeting with one of the leadership team for support and collaboration and all that jazz. Today, let’s call them “E” from leadership is meeting one after another with Aims, Lizz, and me. Perfect time to strike.
It was my idea first, that we troll E with something harmless, for example all saying “Greetings hello” and doing the same wave, just to throw them off a tad.
While brainstorming other ideas, I’m trying to do some case management work, but Aims and Lizz and other coworker Jules are trying to make me laugh while I was on the phone. Mid-scheming they slide me a note with what was apparently supposed to be a drawing of a lightbulb, but which looked like something else entirely. My voice actually wavered on the phone so I gave them a nice subtle bird with my phone holding hand and they went into hysterics. Once I was off the phone, I drew the missing wire and filament to make the drawing less phallic looking. Lizz, Aims, and Jules decide the filament is actually a single hair.
The plan began to form tho. The challenge was on to make E say “f*ck” the most times in our meeting, dab if E said the phrase “trauma informed care,” and somehow use the phrase “hotter than a hoochie coochie.”
Our real problems began when Jules bet five dollars to first person to tell E “hoochie coochie” which wasn’t fair to Lizz and me because Aims was scheduled first.
So during Aims’ meeting ((and while I was off freaking actually doing my job, I might add)) Lizz ran around the back of the building during Aims’ meeting to chant in E’s window hoochie coochie hoochie coochie —which Aims decided was cheating and blew our cover for that one. Jules still gave Lizz the five bucks.
When I hear of this, I figure our cover is blown, so why be subtle now? I began an email chain entitled “HOTTER THAN A HOOCHIE COOCHIE” with nothing in the message except a phallic lightbulb drawn out in keyboard symbols. Lizz also slips an enlarged drawing of the lightbulb under E’s office door. We immediately get a response from E in the email thread and we can hear Aims’ frustrated laughter so we know it’s going well.
During Lizz’s meeting, Aims starts sending keyboard drawings of figures in different dance poses for n the email. E sends back “tag yourself, I’m—” and indicates who they and Lizz are. Aims creates an especially voluptuous keyboard drawing for herself. I simply tag myself as the single hair on the lightbulb.
Just before I go in for my meeting, Aims tells me “I got E to say f*ck seven times, and I dabbed at the code word, beat that.”
So, I go in with the greeting “have you noticed that it’s hotter than a hoochie coochie?” I mean, we’re having a great time, and E is obviously enjoying the chaos, and our cover us blown so we just laugh about it. Except, unbeknownst to E, I’m still counting f*cks in my head and waiting for the code word.
Here’s the thing. Around f*ck number five, E says it: “trauma informed care.” Before either of us can blink, I’ve dabbed. E gives me a really strange look. I dab again, repeat the code word, “trauma informed care,” shrug, and move on. Something feels off.
Meanwhile tho, Aims and Lizz are sending emails to the chain from each other’s accounts, Lizz is singing babble in the hallway, and Aims appears in the window outside to make faces behind E’s back (E puts a lightbulb drawing on the window to ward her off). To say the least, I’m distracted from the moment of oddness.
When I’m finished, E is done for the day and heads out. I parade up to Lizz and Aims to announce that we’ve tied for f*cks and I dabbed twice. While Lizz is busy complaining about forgetting to dab and count f*cks, Aims immediately loses it. When Aims can freaking breathe again, she confesses:
“I didn’t actually do it. I didn’t dab.”
So there I was, barbecue sauce on my tiddies, as they say, having been the only one who dabbed for no freaking reason except to look like a darn fool because I work with a pack of freaking back-stabbing trolls.
And that’s the long version of how I ate my foot at work and received dab trauma for my trouble.
“woah.... that’s so freakin’ cool.”
having spent most of his life on the farm, and with the college campus so isolated from the city, epel can’t help but stare up in awe at the buildings towering over them now; some are twisted into strange shapes, some seem to glitter under the sunlight, and some are so tall he has no hope of ever seeing the top of them. as someone so used to the simplicity of the countryside, it’s a sight he isn’t prepared for.
“um, i mean... this place is amazing.”
with some of his initial excitement dying off, epel finally remembers himself - and although he regains some of his composure, he’s unable to completely hide the excited gleam in his eyes. “although it’s probably not a big deal for the people that live here and are used to it... i guess? how long have you been here, jamil?”
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