MLR, take two

[crankylex]

moron (noun): A stupid person; a dolt.

***

Picture it: my office, this afternoon.

The moron in question, hereinafter referred to as Midget Lionel Ritchie (MLR) *, enters my office, my domain, my own personal fiefdom, etcetera, etcetera, in order to humbly request a favor from me.

MLR does not work for me; he is, after a fashion, a client. After a brief conversation about work related topics, he looks up, and sees a collection of picture frames on the large ledge above my head. The pictures are of things that are near and dear to me, things that make me feel better when I am stressed and want nothing more than to run screaming out the door.

Two of those pictures are of Taylor and Brandon, the children of my partner in crime, msaramat. Since they are T's children, they are the closest thing to children I currently have.

Those pictures in particular catch the eye of MLR, and he says, in a shocked tone, "Those children are black!" (In case you hadn't guessed from the psuedonym, MLR is black, too.)

To which I slap my hands to my face, a la 'Home Alone' and say, in the most amazed tone I can muster, "They ARE?????"

He pauses for a moment. "But you're white!!!"

Yeah, thank you, Captain Obvious, for pointing that out to me.

From my sarcastic reply ("Oh my god, I am! Would you look at that!"), MLR realizes that he has stuck both his feet in his mouth and scrambles to make amends, but I am so incredibly not interested.

It is 2002. People have walked on the moon. There are countries that exist solely on the internet. George W. Bush is president.

Is it really so strange that people have interracial families?

* No offense intended to Lionel Ritchie, midgets, or the families of the above, be they interracial or otherwise.

Posted 4/26/2002 at 7:21 pm

I have seen MLR in the interim, but today he felt the need to have some quality Lex time. Because, you know, I didn't look like I had work coming out my ass or anything..

(Picture it: It's 4:40 PM. MLR had a 4:00 with D, my boss. MLR has just arrived. D, after bitching about MLR's absence, has moved on to a conference call with Merrill Lynch.)

MLR: Is D ready to see me?
L: No.
MLR: I have an appointment.
L: You had an appointment. At 4:00. It is now 4:40.
MLR: Well, I'll come back --
L: -- No, you won't. You will sit in that chair and you will wait until he is done with his conference call. It began promptly at 4:30, so it shouldn't be much longer.
MLR: *pauses* I bet you get off on beating a man down in bed.
L: You have no idea.

How do these people FIND me?