strikers

OK. I really haven’t talked too much about the strike here, because I’d rather not get my ass fired, thank you very much.

In truth, the strike actually doesn’t effect me – or won’t I should say until maybe mid 2008. We’ll talk again then. Which, considering the last one lasted something like 22 weeks is a possibility.

But here’s the thing. I have to be at work. I’ve not crossed a picket yet – I get there early so I don’t have to. I stay on the lot at lunch. And then they’re gone by the time I leave. OK fine.

I’ve already mentioned the honking… My God The HONKING. My office windows are out to the street, and I can’t tell you how annoying the honking is.

But today? The air horn? So annoying. I’m not at a freaking basketball game.

But the prize for most ingenuity goes officially to the bugler. Yes, that’s right. Some enterprising picketer brought a BUGLE. And then went from line to line, playing his bugle (which so reminded me of summer camp bugling to wake us up.)

Goooooooood Morning good morning good morning!
It’s time to rise and shine!
Gooooooooood Morning good morning good morning!
It’s time to rise and shine!
Get up get up get up get up!
It’s time to rise and shine!

And then a rooster would crow. And then the bugle would blow.

Sorry. Tangent.

Anyway so the bugler is walking by and BUGLES AT MY WINDOW. What’d I ever do to him? I have nothing to do with their fight. Really. I swear. The there his is bugling at my office from the street. I have to say, I had no idea what to do with myself.