So, I’ve been sweating this project at work where I have to use 30+ year old programming code. Over 30 years old, y’all. 30 years ago, I was a brand new bride and hadn’t started working in I.T. yet. Other than being recently married to my first husband, I kind of envy 30 years ago me.
Anyway, the project was hard, yo. Two things: One, while I cannot claim to have not suffered from any performance anxiety on this project, I can say that I only suffered a fraction of what I usually do. So, yay! Secondly, I have very nearly kicked the project in the ass. I ended the week on a high note. I love a win on a Friday night.
Anyway, I left work a little early and Randy and I have had a few cocktails. (Shots of tequila). He very patiently listened to me give him way too much information about what I had to do to get this code to work. But goddamn, I had to tell somebody. So, I got done talking about the code and we moved on to time travel/time portal travel.
Me: I have learned so much from this project . If I had a time machine I could put this new knowledge to good use. I mean, if I could go back to 1985, I would kick IBM midrange computing in the ass.
Me: Seriously, if we could time travel, I would be a computer programming rock star. We’d make a fortune and then invest it all in Apple. Then we’d sell our stock and invest the money in something safe that would build over time. We’d return to now and be fucking loaded.
Me: Although, that would be a really difficult way to get rich with a time machine. I mean, it would make more sense to go back and buy a lottery ticket when the lottery was up to half a billion dollars. I’m making this too difficult. The 1985 scenario only makes sense if it’s a time portal that we could go through and only went back to 1985. Then, we had to stay there like five years before coming back to our time. And that might totally suck, because we might be having a really good time, you know?
Randy: Want another drink?
Me: So really, the best thing would be to just have a time machine and do the whole lottery ticket thing.
Randy: Is that all you would do with your time machine?
Me: No, I would also use it to fuck with people. Like, I would set it to go back in time one minute over and over and just keep walking out of the same office, but never in. Sooner or later, someone would notice and it would drive them batshit.
Randy: So you are telling me, that if you had a time machine, you would use it to buy a winning lottery ticket and to fuck with some random person working in an office building.
Me: It’d be funny.
Randy: That is a sad use of a time machine.
Me: Still, it’d be funny.
Me: Other than I would be gaslighting that person. Holy shit. If I get a time machine, I’ll become a monster. I’m going to have to have rules about who I fuck with.
Randy: This is going to take a while, isn’t it?
Me: It might.
Me: I am in no way condoning gaslighting another person. However, if I get a time machine and I gaslight someone, then the person as to be horrible. You know, really bad, like Hitler, Leona Helmsley or the first person to ever make a jello mold with cottage cheese. So, the rules are this: I can only gaslight someone if I actually get a time machine. And the person has to be horrible and kind of have it coming to them.
Randy: Fair enough.
Me: I don’t know. I’m starting to feel guilty about the gaslighting thing.
Randy: You feel guilty over gaslighting Hitler? So, you feel sorry for Hitler. You are a monster.
Randy: How does that work with the time portal?
Me: What the hell, dude? That doesn’t work at all with the time portal. If our only option is time portal, then we have to go with my newly acquired kick ass antiquated programming skills plan.
Randy: Do you want another drink?
Randy: So, what if it is a portal?
Randy: And the portal is a port-a-potty? Would that make it a portal potty?
Randy: Seriously, and you had to lower yourself into the port-a-potty in order to get to the portal.
Randy: And then when you were down there, the portal just stopped working. How would you explain why you were down there? Would you tell people that you were going through a time portal to 1985?
Me: Duh. No. They’d take me right to the psych ward. I would just tell them that some lunatic threw me down there and then cry until they rescued me.
Me: And way to go on messing up the whole time portal idea. You’re disgusting.
Randy: You’re the one in the port-a-potty.
Sadly, this is not the first conversation where we’ve made up scenarios and someone ends up trapped in a port-a-potty.