Todd got busy a while back at work and I seldom heard a peep from him. I say busy, but what
I really mean is that there were some expectations and responsibilities that translated into--gasp! -- the eight-hour workday.
An eight-hour workday didn't leave Todd with a lot of toy-cars-jumping-over-sharks time. So seldom a peep. For a while.
Just this week, while explaining a very funny people-can't-be-this-dumb story, Todd mentioned that he isn't doing
the busy things anymore. The reins have been loosened on his teleconference training management. Which gives him time
for thinking about what he would do if HE was the recipient of two Automated Traffic Enforcement tickets:
I would throw on a yellow shirt (the tighter the better), get my ass on a bicycle, and pedal
like hell across the speed trap with arms raised in the air-- fake license plate affixed to the bike stating "Mr. Armstrong,
Champs-Elysées, Paris, France".
Dude, how did I work with Todd for four Julys and never know that he was Tour de France freak? Like the other day
when he was not so busy-- and thus on the phone with me-- and he said, "Well, you know I'm such a big fan
of the Tour de France..." And I was like, huh? I totally missed that along the way. Olympics, yes.
But go-lance-tour-de-france? Never knew. Maybe I thought he was talking about skiing. Or the stock market.
Or something equally boring. And so instead of listening, I just rolled over to his desk to start deleting his emails. |
