Grand Old Larceny

Recently, my boss decided to add a convicted felon to our ranks. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

He's a different breed, this one. He's tall and lanky, with an asymmetrical face and a belly that sticks out in front of him like a pregnancy simulator vest. There is a baby gate affixed to keep the office dog from bolting out the front door and into traffic when we get visitors. Instead of sliding it open like everyone else, he lifts one of his long, spindly legs into the air and steps over it, like he is trying to mount a horse. Then he steps over it with his other leg. I've seen him catch his foot in the lattice on more than one occasion and almost go sprawling onto the tile.

We've started calling him lurky because of his tendency to lurk around the parking lot while he fights with someone on the phone.

While I was in Iowa a couple weeks ago, our office manager texted me his mugshot. Allegedly, she had been performing an impromptu background check. Coincidentally, our operations manager found a $20 bill at the very moment and was asking if anyone lost it. "I did!" said lurky, at the same instant she read the words "grand larceny."

When she told our boss, he responded that our office was "the land of second chances."

Our little jailbird doesn't know that any of us have caught wind of his past. One of my guilty pleasures is making him sweat.

"Does anyone know what happened to my Monster?" Dan said a couple days ago.
"No, I think we've got a thief here," I told him.

Today I had to send a certified letter to an ex-roommate's parents threatening to sue them because he stole a bunch of money from me a while ago.

"He got in trouble for GRAND LARCENY just last September because some lady let him watch her house and he pawned all her jewelry," I said, standing behind lurky's chair.

"Oh man!" he said, feigning ignorance.

I don't know why I get such sick pleasure out of tormenting him. I guess it's part of a last ditch effort to maintain my sanity in the work place.

Maybe next we will hire a registered sex offender. Then the fun will really start.