Boss gets angrier than whimsical pineapple socks technically allow
Listen, when our new boss Ken walked into the joint last week, I immediately knew everything I needed to know. Why's that? His socks, you guys. Those puppies were just covered in pineapples holding tiny electric guitars! What a fun man!
Know what else? His totally easygoing wardrobe didn't stop there. Buddy was also wearing a navy blue suit with bright red, high-top Converse sneakers. How chill can you possibly get?! Plus, he had a briefcase with an iron-on patch of Beavis and Butthead!
Ken is clearly the most laid-back boss ever to exist. Which is why it was more than a little alarming to walk into the break room to find him yelling at Gary. I'm talking full-on, top-volume, red-faced yelling.
I'm not sure what he was yelling about — something to do with how Gary got high at work and decided he need to print out the entirety of Wikipedia — but the point is, WOW. I'm not sure the 50 or so rock 'n' roll pineapples adorning his socks would have ever agreed to this level of rage emanating from their wearer.
I stood there aghast. And then, I took it a step further: I went online, tracked down the exact pineapple socks and checked the manufacturer's instructions. According to the back of the box, the angriest you are legally permitted to get while wearing these socks is "a super-chill scoff, and then the utterance of the words, 'nah, that's not dope,' at which point you must drop the issue — and your anger — immediately and go back to whatever you were doing."
As I watched Gary's face in the break room, his eyes darting nervously back and forth between Ken's yelling mouth and his bepineappled ankles, I could see the confusion in his heart. The impossible task of reconciling his socks with his demeanour. "This makes no sense!!!" he clearly yearned to shout into the heavens themselves.
The craziest part of this whole thing was that after he finished yelling at Gary, he went right back to strutting around the office pointing rad finger guns at us and winking. He sidled right up to my desk, leaned against the wall at a coooooooool 45-degree angle to the floor, and proceeded to tell me about his ska band, Licorice Child.
I swear I saw every individual pineapple on his socks breathe a tiny sigh of relief.