Pass the Strychnine Please

Stop me if you heard this intro before, but I’m headed back to Missouri once again. On an airplane. For work. Which means, of course, more amusing stories for you the faithful reader.

Let’s see, how long has it been since my last trip to my favorite Red State? Oh wait, it’s only been 15 days. Awesome. Last time it was 2 non-stop days of corporate blather about “strategic direction,” “company execution” and “leadership commitment.” And yes, it was as bad as it sounds.

With that as a recent comparison point, I am dead serious when I say that I would *far prefer* to attend those meetings that my department’s team-building retreat. With my insane boss. I have been dreading these next couple of days for the last few months. I kept praying to the 8 lb. 6 oz., golden swaddling baby Jesus that this trip would be cancelled, but to no avail.

Honestly, I would rather perform my own colonoscopy with a rusty garden hose than attend this retreat. We’re basically going to “retreat” (i.e., work) for a little over 24 hours, which is fucking retarded. Monday will be a 14 hour day, were we get on a bus which will carry us 3 hours to the Ozark’s, which is basically in the middle of nowhere (think “Deliverance,” minus a pre-toupee Burt Reynolds).

Once we arrive, we move right into a series of non-stop presentations and working meals, culminating in some sort of “team building” exercise from 8:00-9:30 p.m. That should be a treat. Nothing’s more fun than having “trust falls” and playing “corporate madlib” games at 9:00 at night. Oh wait, I forgot that we are entitled to a 30 minute happy hour from 6:30-7:00. Although that technically makes it “Happy Half Hour.” I wonder how many drinks I can gulp down in 30 minutes. I’m putting the over/under at 5. Oh well, it should make the team building exercise far more palatable.