Now, my office is small and I'm the only one in here, and due to the size/crap ratio, the only place for my 'desk' (which is really just a table) leaves me sitting with my back to the door. As a result of that and the fact that I often have to leave my office in a rush, I leave my door locked all the time. After all, it wouldn't do to have random lost students just barging in on me while I'm trying to concentrate on a particularly nasty problem. Nor would it be adventageous to the college to have me forget to lock the door when I leave one day and have one of those lost students realize that they just opened up a room full of various pieces of computing equipment that is rather unprotected. So, yes, I leave my door locked.
As I was saying, here I am trying to understand how I'm going to get this beast working when I hear someone attempting to pull my door off it's hinges. I pause the music and pull off the headphones (I'm not yanking random crap off my desk as I stand up a third time, thankyouverymuch) and try to guess what type of student it'll be this time as I get up to answer the door.
On the other side of the door, I discover a young gentleman dressed in what can only be some company uniform (poor sod) and before I can say anything he confirms my name and shoves a clipboard at my chest with a pen and says print your name here, indicating a space which he just 'x'ed with said pen. I'm standing there in utter confusion, trying to grasp the situation and I barely manage to get out "who are you" (or, more likely, something mostly incoherrent that vaguely resembled said interrogitave, given that my mind was a little muddled and still in computer-work-mode). He obviously gets this often and just said "Shari's Berries" with a smile on his face.
"Yup. Just print your name there, please."
At the moment, I was certain I've never heard of this place before in my life. I felt like poor Mrs. Buttle, having my planned day's events quite jarringly derailed (he could have tried knocking) and now being told by someone I didn't know from somewhere I've never heard of telling me to leave my mark on a piece of paper with no reason being given for the need for said mark.
This didn't last long, though, as I noticed he's holding some sort of a golden box, and this is obvioulsy some sort of a delivery. So I resign myself to not having the faintest clue who this person is, where he is from, or what it is he is bringing here, but I print my name and take the box he thrusts at me and am left standing there in the hall as he walks hurridly off (I got the feeling he is clearly running a tad behind schedule).
I return to my office, close the door, and begin inspecting the package. Noticing a little card attached to the box, I read it and all becomes clear: Mah shweetie has decided to send me a box of chocolate-covered berries (hand-dipped this very morning, so the corporate propoganda proclaims!) in celebration of her new job. Alas, the 'care-and-feeding' (or, would that be 'care-and-eating'?) instructions make it quite clear they are to be stored at 'cool room temperature' and the uneaten ones should be refridgerated. Now, this presents a minor problem. As I work in a rather *small* office (calling it a "broom closet" would be generous), and I have at least 4 computers running at any given time (two servers, one production machine, and one test machine), 'cool' is not a term anyone would use to describe my operating environment. Luckilly, a refridgerator is available, so I will have to keep them in there and hope the chill does not cause them any damage. Though I had two of them (they are too freakin' *HUGE* to have more) beforehand so I can sample them as they were meant to be had. The rest are now occupying almost an entire shelf in my little mini-fridge (did I mention the box was of considerable size?), awaiting their inevitable, though yummy, fate.
Thank you, serenica69. They are wonderful and I look forward to sharing them with you. thankyouthankyouthankyou. You really needn't have done so, but I am very happy and thankful just the same.