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The Water Cooler
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Why does my dog
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<blockquote data-quote="gerhard1" data-source="post: 3612057" data-attributes="member: 5391"><p>This reminds me of a woman I used to work with at Boeing in Renton. She was batshit crazy and she was constantly being moved around because no one wanted her. She was about 5" 3 high and grossly obese and she was known for throwing crowbars, garbage can lids, and anything else she had in her hands at the time. Her car was a brown Oldsmobile, a Cutlass if memory serves.</p><p></p><p>We were working in a remote area, separated from the main plant by about five miles and our parking lot was very close by. One day we were working overtime and the overhead door was open so we could see out and we were taking a break. One of us called the others over and pointed out the woman who had just arrived at her Olds. She opened the driver's door, then slammed it shut just as hard as he could. She then went to the hood and did the same thing. Then the passenger door and finally the trunk got the same treatment. </p><p></p><p>She then started the process all over again. Finally one of the other guys called out to her "Hey Delores! Slam it once for me, will ya?" We couldn't help laughing and she gave us the finger, opened the door, and got in slamming it with all her considerable might once more.</p><p></p><p>Pretty soon the foreman managed to transfer her back to Renton, much to the crew's relief.</p><p></p><p>A little while later one of the other guys got a call from Renton. "Hey, Jim, there's a crazy woman beating the hell out of a car in the Boeing parking lot!"</p><p></p><p>IT took a second to register with Jim, and then he asked "Is she about 5" 3" high and about 5' 4" wide with long straight black hair?"</p><p></p><p>"Yeah! Yeah!"</p><p></p><p>"Is the car a brown Cutlass?"</p><p></p><p>"Yeah! It is!"</p><p></p><p>"That's Delores."</p><p></p><p>"Oh, my Gawd; we all thought you were exaggerating about her."</p><p></p><p>Like I say, Delores was 'different'. She was also extremely snakey to work around.</p><p></p><p>Since our warehouse stored nose cones and they are easily damaged, we stored them on huge Lyon shelves and some of them were twenty to thirty feet above the floor. One day, she came over to me as I was doing some paperwork. "Gary."</p><p></p><p>"Yes, Delores?"</p><p></p><p>She pointed to one of the nose cone crates on an upper shelf. "Do you see that man up there?" I looked and there was no one there. "He's been watching me for hours."</p><p></p><p>"O-O-O-kay."</p><p></p><p>At least she didn't throw anything that day.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="gerhard1, post: 3612057, member: 5391"] This reminds me of a woman I used to work with at Boeing in Renton. She was batshit crazy and she was constantly being moved around because no one wanted her. She was about 5" 3 high and grossly obese and she was known for throwing crowbars, garbage can lids, and anything else she had in her hands at the time. Her car was a brown Oldsmobile, a Cutlass if memory serves. We were working in a remote area, separated from the main plant by about five miles and our parking lot was very close by. One day we were working overtime and the overhead door was open so we could see out and we were taking a break. One of us called the others over and pointed out the woman who had just arrived at her Olds. She opened the driver's door, then slammed it shut just as hard as he could. She then went to the hood and did the same thing. Then the passenger door and finally the trunk got the same treatment. She then started the process all over again. Finally one of the other guys called out to her "Hey Delores! Slam it once for me, will ya?" We couldn't help laughing and she gave us the finger, opened the door, and got in slamming it with all her considerable might once more. Pretty soon the foreman managed to transfer her back to Renton, much to the crew's relief. A little while later one of the other guys got a call from Renton. "Hey, Jim, there's a crazy woman beating the hell out of a car in the Boeing parking lot!" IT took a second to register with Jim, and then he asked "Is she about 5" 3" high and about 5' 4" wide with long straight black hair?" "Yeah! Yeah!" "Is the car a brown Cutlass?" "Yeah! It is!" "That's Delores." "Oh, my Gawd; we all thought you were exaggerating about her." Like I say, Delores was 'different'. She was also extremely snakey to work around. Since our warehouse stored nose cones and they are easily damaged, we stored them on huge Lyon shelves and some of them were twenty to thirty feet above the floor. One day, she came over to me as I was doing some paperwork. "Gary." "Yes, Delores?" She pointed to one of the nose cone crates on an upper shelf. "Do you see that man up there?" I looked and there was no one there. "He's been watching me for hours." "O-O-O-kay." At least she didn't throw anything that day. [/QUOTE]
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