Keeping you posted
Today was the company golf outing. I don't golf. But somehow I end up going to this thing every year to "help." This entails everything to counting the money (yes, give the journalism major the counting job, that's a GREAT idea!) to telling my boss someone's name so he doesn't make an ass of himself. Like this example, from today:

Boss: Is that guy's name Dick?
K: No, it's Jim.
Boss: (a few seconds later) Hey, Dick!
K: (hisses) JIM!

It also entails eating a hot dog with aforementioned boss at 10:30 a.m. And then, several Mike's Hard Cranberry Lemonades. And then driving around with him on a golf cart.

As I mentioned previously, this is IBL's show. He "organized" the whole thing (the man with no organizational skills) and never fails to forget many minor details, such as cash boxes, donuts and coffee in the morning, and assigning tasks to people beforehand so there isn't mass confusion the day of the outing.

I could have opted out this time but I knew that if I wasn't there, I'd miss something spectacularly hilarious. Like a couple years ago, when IBL, from quite a fair distance away, hit Bad Lady with a golf ball. Or, the story that is told and retold by my boss, which happened way before I started working here, whereupon IBL hit a huge-ass divot onto the chest of one of our bigwigs.

Actually, nothing cool like that happened. But it was still fun.