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And This Is Why You Should Never Do Anything Nice For Anyone Ever.

This weekend, I broke my boss’s television.


Welcome to my world.

I know these things don’t just happen to me, right?  You told me these things don’t just happen to me, like the time I flashed my co-worker, boss, and pretty much the entire city my skivvies in broad daylight.  (Because, you know, any other time of day would be perfectly acceptable.)

It was one of those moments when, clear as crystal, I had an epiphany — we really should lie the television down while we move it, I thought, rather than balancing it up on its stand.

Of course, as is common in these types of scenarios, I was having that epiphany as I pressed the accelerator when the light turned green.  In the forward momentum, the backwards-facing television decided that it would rather stay at the stop light, so it fell, face down, and landed on top of a file cabinet.

And I got that feeling.  You know that sickly feeling when you feel like life is playing a joke on you?  Like any second time is going to rewind itself to the moment before The Incident happened, and you’ll have time to change the way things went down?  Like this really can’t be happening, and we’ll just stop at the office to drop off the filing cabinet, and then there will be plenty of room to properly arrange the large, not-inexpensive flat screen television in such a way that basic physics won’t lead to its ultimate demise?

But wait.  That already happened.

And now I have to explain to my boss, when we show up at his new house to which we were helping him move his family’s worldly possessions from his old house, why, exactly, I broke one of the two things I was responsible for transporting.

After that thought crossed my mind, a more primal instinct took over.  I’m not exactly sure, but I think this is the conversation that took place in my car:

Me:  We could just keep driving.  We could just keep going and start over with nothing but this Tracker, a filing cabinet, and a broken, flat screen television to our names.

Justin:  That sounds great, except for the part where I get arrested for ditching the military.

Me:  We could just throw it out the back of the Tracker and tell him we got mugged when we were driving through a less-than-savory part of town.

Justin:  We didn’t drive through a less-than-savory part of town.  He’ll only believe that story if we tell him we got mugged by a McDonald’s employee or grass-fed prep school children.

Me:  It could happen.

Justin:  And the only thing they stole was the flat screen?

Me:  What else are they going to steal?  Mixed CD’s from 1998?  A pack of kleenex?  The copy of Jonathan Livingston Seagull I bought in a used bookstore in Canon Beach  in 2003 that’s been sitting in the pocket of my door ever since?

Justin:  Good point. But we’d have to file a police report to make it believable, and I refuse to get involved in that type of scandalous affair.

Me:  What, they didn’t teach you that in Catholic school?  That it’s okay to file false police reports on your wife’s behalf so she doesn’t have to tell her boss that she broke his expensive television?  That you BOTH broke his expensive television?  Don’t forget, Mister, you were in the car.  That makes you an accomplice.  And I’m your wife.  Catholics are totally into that idea of doing-whatever-the-spouse-wants-no-questions-asked, right?  I mean, it’s for the good of the marriage.  I could be carrying your CHILD.

Justin:  What?  You could?

Me:  No.  It was a hypothetical.


Me:  Let’s talk about something else.

In the end, my boss wasn’t mad.  Or at least he did a good job of hiding it.  I console myself by saying it was an older flat screen, and he said he’d been looking for an excuse to buy a new one anyway.

That, and the fact that I work for a bargain.  And he knows it.

And we’re the only people who showed up to help him move.

And we did it for free.

So hey.

You get what you pay for, right?

I’m pretty sure there’s a lesson to be learned here.  Something like… don’t do nice things for other people because it will likely bite you in the ass.

Or something like that.

I’m still working on that one.


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Aw, thanks Andi! And thanks for stopping by my lil ol’ blog!


If he’s like every man I’ve ever known, than yes, he was planning on buying a newer, bigger, better one. He’s probably been standing in front of the 70″ Sony at Sam’s Club trying to figure out how to make the purchase seem reasonable. Hmmm…that new employee Katie knows just what I need done even when I don’t ask her. I’ll let her break my tv. 70″ of Al Michael’s sweaty forehead here I come!


LOL. I think you’re right. He did seem kind of excited at the prospect of getting a new one…


Um, if you ever *do* get pregnant, I think that’s *exactly* how you should tell Justin.


Ha! I think you’re right.


that must have been awkward.. but at least as you say you had a bunch of other factors to help balance it out.


At least in my own twisted mind… :)


Maybe the lesson is ‘Don’t let underpaid workers move your valuables…’


Glad it all turned out ok. Loved the grass-fed prep school children. lol


Yeah! I don’t know what he was thinking, having me move the most fragile thing. So really, it’s HIS fault. ;)


He wanted it broken; you do know that, right? Perhaps he’s married, or indecisive. You gave him the perfect excuse to buy another, or to do the noble thing of going without. Whichever the case, his hidden anger was actually gratitude. Good on you for pulling through for him. Maybe you’ll get a raise out of it. Or a box of chocolates.


That’s all I’m sayin’. But yeah… don’t for a second think he’s going to go without — he’s using this as an excuse to get the projection screen he’s been wanting. He looked like he was having a stroke when I told him I don’t even have cable.

I’ll pass on the chocolates… I’d rather take the raise or a sweet bonus so I can take an awesome trip or start my new company selling tent chandeliers — you know, for the snazzy traveler. ;)


See?! Projection screens are less troublesome anyway. You can put them away to keep up the allure of a snazzy room, and give me the chocolates; I’m sick of beans and rice – it seems that’s all people eat in this part of the world. But a trip is worth it.


It’s weird, but a little part of me misses the beans and rice. :) Make friends with the locals and get yourself some homemade fried platanos!

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