Occasionally, I say something funny. Out loud, I mean, not here in the blog. Sometimes, those comments are well-received ... and sometimes they aren't. Two examples of the latter:
Once, I was in the elevator at the end of the day with my coworker John and another woman. John looked over at the number pad, pointed to the button that read "DH" and asked if I knew where it went. I said no. Then he said, "What do you think DH stands for?" And I said, "Direct to Hell."
In response, I got crickets. Then a tumbleweed blew across the elevator floor.
Another time, a coworker was telling me that the people in her neighborhood have a progressive dinner every fall. The previous year, the theme was Italy, so they had Italian food and wine. For the next event, my coworker suggested they do a Southern theme, or a Loveboat theme, or (my favorite) a 1930's Prohibition theme. So I said, "What are you gonna do for that, get hammered and run from the cops?"
Ah, well. I amuse myself, and I guess that's what counts.