Folks have been noticing changes with me lately. Some of them haven’t been able to put their finger on it, though.
They’ll ask things like “Have you done something with your hair?”
“Which one?” I’ll respond.
But others, particularly the co-workers nearest me who keep various hard and sharp objects to throw at me should the urge arise, have a better grip on my evolution.
“You’re probably 67 percent less annoying this week than usual,” my boss Pork Chop noted.
Puh-leez! I’m at least 74 percent less annoying.
Mathematics aside, I’ve clearly changed and shall continue to do so. I’m so changed, in fact, that I’ve taken to calling myself “New Chris,” as have a few other folks.
Sure beats some of the other names I’ve been called, including the most common name, “That Chris.”
To help you distinguish That Chris from New Chris, here are some examples of how New Chris will handle situations differently from That Chris:
Ÿ When New Chris walks into a fast-food restaurant and is greeted by silence and a blank stare, he will no longer say, “Hi, I’m Chris, and I’ll be your customer. Would you like to take my order?”
Ÿ When New Chris fills out his self-evaluation at work, he will no longer use terms such as stupendous, amazing, genius, brilliant and handsome to boot.
Ÿ New Chris will not snicker sarcastically when he hears the term “synergy.” Not out loud anyway.
Ÿ New Chris will no longer hand in reports that spur managers to ask, “Why didn’t you just draw me a picture of your middle finger?” (That’s an exact quote, by the way.)
Ÿ New Chris will remember to take the trash can to the end of the driveway. (That answer is for my wife, who specifically asked.)
Ÿ New Chris will no longer rev up his engine to help motivate jaywalkers in downtown Columbus. Mainly because I don’t want transmission problems. Again.
Ÿ New Chris will never again voice his support for gay marriage by saying, “I had to do it, so they should, too.”
Ÿ New Chris will take care of his body and no longer consider chewing really fast to be cardiovascular exercise.
Ÿ New Chris will no longer take joy in that wide-eyed expression tailgating drivers get when I slow down from 60 mph to 2 mph in a span of about 12 feet.
Ÿ New Chris will not roll down his windows and blare Hank Jr. at 150 decibels every time he encounters a car blaring some horrifically redundant rap tune. (New Chris lost Old Chris’ CD.)
Of course, there are doubters and the bearers of pessimism. My co-worker Sandra — the only person I’m afraid of at the paper — ain’t buying it. And she has repeatedly threatened me with her man-eating Chihuahua. So, if I can’t pull off becoming the New Chris, I’d better manage one heck of an impersonation of him.
ContactChris Johnsonat email@example.com or 706-320-4403.