Marcia Macintyre finally sold her car! No, really? I thought she’d never get rid of the old bolt bucket. At least we don’t have watch it lurch into the parking lot anymore. I never believed it was an antique car, no matter what she said. Sure, she inherited it from her grandad, but family heirlooms are only so useful. Whoever heard of an antique truck? It definitely rattled and squawked enough to be one, but I doubt it. No, the thing was just old and falling apart. Now she’s gotten rid of it, we can have some sense of self-respect. Maybe the boss will even give her a bonus, for improving the company image. Oh, come on, you know I’m kidding. How much money did she get for it, anyway? I’ll bet she overpriced it. It was never worth more than a couple thousand, even if Jake decided to give her a deal. He’s careful, but you never know what he might offer. Oh, he didn’t? That just goes to show he’s the one with the brains. He’ll give it a free ticket to the junk shop, and she’ll get a pair of walking shoes like the rest of us.
Marcia Macintyre’s flying to Salamanca! Are you sure about this one? Last I heard, she didn’t have enough to contribute to the office Christmas party. All right, don’t get on your soapbox. Her financial problems don’t have to go any further than us, believe me. Right. Now, if you’re so sure, tell me this: why Salamanca? We’re getting on summertime. If it’s hot here, it must be even hotter over there. And you know her—snow is the next best thing to instant coffee. Even if she could afford it, it’s hardly the place she’d go. Expedition to Antarctica, cruise in Norway, cross-country trek through Alaska, but not Spain. Anywhere cold enough to watch your breath fog up for nine months out of twelve, and she’s game. Heck, I’d go with her to Norway. Alaska and Antarctica are pushing it, but Norway, why not? No, I’m not kidding. I’m not ready to swallow every half-baked story I hear. Salamanca’s more your boat, isn’t it? Yeah, you’re so excited by the idea that you misheard. We’re not in grade school, so do I really have to tell you not to believe—all right, I’ll stop. Coffee’s the only solution for you.
Marcia’s faking entrees for her salamanders! What? You mean Marcia’s not feeding her pets? If she won’t take care of the poor things, I guess we’d better call the shelter. Oh, they don’t take salamanders? Well, that’s a bummer. Aren’t they like an endangered species or something? Well, I’m pretty sure they are. Somebody should report to the department. What? I don’t care if this is an office. Don’t we have a department for this? Well, I’ll take the poor things, as soon as I figure out where to buy salamander food. What do they even eat? Hey, Siri, what’s a salamander’s favorite food? No, that’s not helpful, Siri. I’m not looking for the best place to buy wild-caught salmon, we’re talking about salamanders here. You know, sometimes phones are so dumb. Oh, hi, Jennifer. Did you hear about Marcia’s salamanders? She isn’t—oh, she has a dog? Well, I didn’t get that news right, did I? Is her dog an endangered species, by any chance? Yeah, long shot, I know. Are dogs even endangered? Well it doesn’t matter. As long as she feeds the dog, we’re good. You’re sure she does? Well, that’s a relief. Don’t believe everything you hear, right?
Marcia’s flaking entire sea-salt drams! She’s doing what? I don’t even know what a dram is. Wait a sec, Google says it’s a liquid measurement, and it isn’t very big. No, salt’s not a liquid, unless you dissolve it. What she’s doing with eighth teaspoons of salt, I have no clue. Even my grandmother never measured eighth teaspoons of anything. That’s what your fingers are for, she’d say. Anyway, why flake salt crystals when you can just buy it ground up already? No, I don’t think she’s into rock salt or anything like that. There’s only so many health trends you can follow. Sure, she’s organic and all-natural like the rest of us, and that’s great. But chipping her own salt? That’s a bit of a stretch. Maybe they’ve discovered a new stress reliever. Oh, they come up with new ones all the time. This certainly beats out coloring books or kneading bread, though. It just reminds me of one of the Flintstones with a hammer, and Maria’s not that type. No, I’m not saying I know her super well. I’m just saying, this is a bit far-fetched. Just ask Jen, then. I’m pretty sure there’s a mistake in your info somewhere. There’s got to be.
Marcia, thanks for giving me the car. Yeah, no problem, Jake. It’s about time I switched to walking shoes with the rest of the crowd, and this is a great way to do it. She’s a bit of a cantankerous old thing, but she’s in good hands now. Y’know, my boss has been hinting that I should drop her, anyway. So he’s happy, you’re happy—shucks, even the coworkers’ll be happy not to see her in the lot anymore. And, even if you don’t owe me cash, don’t forget about Alaska. This summer, you and me and a cross-country hike, yeah? You’ll have to take off some time from fishing, anyway. Oh, and we can’t forget about Pooh, either. He’d be miserable if we left him behind, bless his doggy heart. So, you, me, and the dog. And we won’t have a problem with organic food, will we? Everything’s natural in the wild. It’ll be fun. At least, I think so. Oh, really? I’m glad you do too. As long as we don’t bring your cat—Minn would be miserable. She can just camp out at the office. At least they all love her!