Yesterday, a coworker, Jer, was belittling me and cleaning out under my desk. It’s pretty much a space heater graveyard under there. It’s freezing in my area and I have burnt out two space heaters and am working on my third.  It’s not my fault I can see my cold breath in there.  I could DIE by catching myself on fire because I sit so close to the space heater without a space heater.

So, Jer is rooting around under there, yanking my mini Christmas tree in its holder out of it’s hiding space and telling me I’m messy (eye roll).

Jer: Why do you have so many space heaters under here?!

Me: Oh…those don’t work.

Jer: Then why are they still here?

Me:  I’m hoarding them.  And they don’t work.

Jer:  None of these work?  Are you sure?

Me: Serious stare.

Jer: So, I’m throwing these away. (And he yanks one out and throws it across the room into a box he recently dedicated as a trash box)

Jer: Hey!  Hand me the scissors!  (He says this while trying to pull the cord for the other space heater out from behind the desk.  He yanked the cord a couple of times and apparently came to the conclusion that the cord was stuck somewhere)

Me: I am pretty sure that’s plugged in.

Jer: No it’s not (he looks at me like I’m stupid.  It’s my desk area.  I would have trusted me concerning the plugged-in-ness of items)

Me: Please check first, you don’t want to electricute yourself.

Jer: (He has obtained scissors) It’s not plugged in! (Proceeds to cut the cord with the metal scissors.  As I said, the heater was plugged in and sparks flew.)

Jer: ….I guess you were right.

Thankfully, Jer did not electricute himself, but I got singed a little bit from a flying spark.  It was all very exciting.

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