It’s Columbus Day, the holiday you forget until you realize you’re at work on Columbus Day. Maybe you don’t have the day off because your boss doesn’t let you celebrate something getting found; maybe it’s because discovering a place inhabited by others doesn’t count as finding something; or maybe it’s because too many happy Mondays imbalance the universe. I don’t know. Whatever the reason, sorry dude, but you’re not alone. Statistically, only one in ten offices grants a day off for Columbus Day. So if you’re the tenth officer, sitting at home celebrating a holiday far more “day” than “holy,” never quit your job. And you are restricted from complaining about work for the rest of the month. If things get so bad that not complaining would literally cause you to burst, you may bitch to a syphilitic Native American. In exchange, you must also listen to his complaints, I would presume mostly about syphilis. And the reservations. And the desecration of sacred grounds. And the enabled alcoholism. And the misrepresentation of their history and culture. And the Twilight franchise. Come to think of it, the Native Americans deserve the holiday. If I see one on the street I think I’ll buy him a sandwich. Provided he doesn’t chew my ear off with bitching first.
My name is Ben, I work for myself, I have a cold, and even I don’t get the day off.