Not the Rug!

The rug in front of the door in the lobby where I sit is always just a little bit crooked. I always wonder if anyone notices. I always wonder if maybe I should be the person to straighten it and if I did straighten it, would anybody even notice then?

These were my thoughts the other day, sitting at my desk, thoughtfully tapping a pen against my chin... I have nothing to do but sit here and stare blankly at the large, sliding double-doors and this damn crooked rug. I sat and pondered and finally realized that I'd had enough! I was going to be the one to adjust this rug so that it would be evenly spaced between both sides of the door. And not crooked either damn it! I stood up with intense ferocity and threw my desk-chair to the floor. It crashed onto it's side, breaking one of the arms off. (Cheap office furniture-That's an issue for me to tackle another day.) Then I lunged over my desk and slid to my hands and knees in front of the large, dark gray rug... I surveyed its angles compared with the angles of the door frame and finally saw what needed to be done.. I lifted the edges of the rug and grabbed on tight. Then I yanked as hard as I could, on the rug, pulling it towards me with all my might.

In hindsight, it was probably very unnecessary to use so much force in moving the rug. After all, it's not that large of a floorpiece, and it wasn't held to the tile by anything at all. The moment I pulled, I knew something was wrong.. I heard a loud scream and a sickening thud, much like the sound of a body that has fallen from the top of a building onto the pavement, followed shortly after by a deafening crash. I glanced up quickly to see what had happened. An old lady(figure 1), walking stick in hand, had been slowly shuffling her way across the other end of the rug as I had pulled... My rippling, muscular arms sometimes don't know their own strength and when I had pulled the rug, the old sow's feet had flown straight up into the air as she became completely airborne. She hit the ground flat on her back, went careening across the freshly mopped floor, and collided with a large potted fern, which tipped over (breaking the pot and spilling moist soil everywhere) right into a large trophy case, which resulted in an explosion of glass shards and meaningless trophies. I walked over to the woman, lying there motionless, covered in broken trophies, shattered glass and moist, mineral-rich soil. "Maybe the fern can be salvaged", I thought to myself.

I walked to the cabinet behind my desk and from my backpack, I pulled an empty Jack Daniels bottle. Then I wandered back over to the horrible mess that the old woman had made, lifted her right arm, and placed the whiskey bottle in her hand, curling her fingers around its long neck. Then I lowered her arm to the floor gently and walked back to the front door. Back to business. Once again, I knelt in front of the large, sliding doors and with the precision of a surgeon, I moved the rug into a perfectly even and centered position.

I hope someone notices how straight the rug looks now. I know it won't bother me anymore and if it does, I'll just adjust it again.
My boss asked me the next morning what the hell had happened. Proudly, I told him, "I finally got up and slid that large, gray rug into its rightful position sir! Doesn't it look better now?"
"No", he shouted at me, his face red anger, "I'm not talking about the rug you idiot! I'm talking about the unconscious old woman and the huge mess over there!"
I grinned and slipped a fresh slice of gum into my mouth. "I guess some people just can't handle their alcohol sir."