Germany
Monday, March 17, 2008 at 08:15PM Mulhausen immediately noticed that they don't speak English in Berlin.
That's right, they speak something else. I told him it was Portuguese.
Some of the people in the office knew English, but spoke with a Hitler accent. Like they were mad and wanted to kill millions of people in a single shot. But although they spoke with an angry accent, they did it with a smile. The way Charlie Manson might talk to you right before carving Helter Skelter into your forehead with a shard of glass.
They were not particularly happy with a global system that was forced upon them by someone else; the system that I now have to support.
While they were sympathetic to the fact that I had nothing to do with the rollout, they were unsympathetic to the fact that I had been thrown into the mix late in the game and it was now my job to support the system after the fact.
In the world of Technology, Users only blame one person: whichever Technology sucker they happen to be speaking to at the moment.
Mulhausen offered no help, mainly because he wasn't at the meeting with the Germans. He was busy trying to throw off alleged former KGB from my trail. I figured meeting with the Germans would be best handled without him. So I sent him on a mission.
There were no pretty Germans in the meeting. I could forgive a woman's angry accent if she were pretty; i could excuse a genocidal maniac if she looked hot. But no. No one to make eyes at while everyone else politely insulted me; nobody to play footsie under the table while others threatened my life. It was a very dry meeting.
Dinner was a different story. Because Helga, the GM's third wife, showed up. Helga married for money. The GM married for pussy. He divorced his second wife to upgrade to someone younger--which, coincidently, is also why he divorced his first wife.
At dinner, I sat across from the GM and his young wife Helga, who did make eyes at me and did play footsies with me under the table. She did not speak English, but we reached an unspoken understanding early on. Someone asked me which hotel I was staying at and I noticed she paid particular interest to the answer, which she did somehow understand. I specified the room number and that made her smile.
Sex with Helga was intense. It was just as intense as the German accent. Angry sex. Very angry. Maybe that's the way Germans have sex. Or maybe that's just the way Helga has sex. Maybe she's angry because she speaks an angry language; maybe she's angry she married for money; or maybe she's just angry Americans stereotype Germans as war-mongering Nazis even in this day and age.
After sex, she asked if I wanted to come into the shower with her, but I declined; I wasn't falling for that old trick...
Humor, Office Politics, Satire
Reader Comments (6)
LMAO at Portuguese! I so love it when you dick him around.
So I guess you were wrong about Germany...unless this was an act out of desperation! LOL!
What old trick? O_O
I feel I may very direly need to know this some day.
Just trust me on this one. Never let a German lead you into a shower...
That's pretty messed up, Jason...
For sure...