Not Quite Sleeping Beauty

This just probably proves that I'm a sadistic bastard (but some of you would have it no other way), but this story is too good to pass up. At least in my quaint little corner of twisted reality.

I was in the lab the other day, waiting for my column to finish running on the Companion. While standing there, I was staring out the windows and noticed a body sprawled across one of the benches of one of the picnic tables outback. I immediately assumed it was someone from one of the companies that has offices and labs on the front side of the building, and I also assumed that it was a certain Chinese guy that works there. Now, before you get upset with me and label me a bigot, I'll just point out that most of the guys who work there are Chinese, AND it's the only company that has no offices on the backside of the building. This guy, though, always throws me off because he looks like a Chinese version of my friend Ozzy. The very first time I saw him, I thought "Shouldn't you be playing catcher for the Dragons?" Ozzy plays semi-professional baseball in the Chicago area, in case you were confused by my thought pattern there.

Since I had nothing better to do than make sure my column didn't over pressurize, I kept an eye on the figure. Finally, after about fifteen minutes (I had changed to a new column at this point), he stirred, sitting up and confirming that it was, indeed, the False Oz. However, my delight at pinpointing the guy from an educated guess was amplified when he tried to stand and, evidently, did not realize that his legs were numb. CRASH! to the ground he crumbled, eliciting a tumult of giggles from my oh-so-mature throat. Pulling himself to his feet, he tried to walk again and BOOM! to the ground he fell. I'm chortling with delight at this point. Finally, he pulls himself up onto the bench and sits for another five minutes, bouncing his legs to work feeling back into them. Finally, he stands and, slowly, begins to walk with the shambling gait of a bog zombie or a newborn calf. He manages to make his way across the road to the building and from there, he disappears from my sight.

Having been thoroughly entertained for a good twenty to thirty minutes (give or take), I return my vigilent watch to the column. When it's done, I clean everything up and decide to make a restroom run (I've been drinking a lot of water of late...more on this later). As I complete said task, I wash up, leave the bathroom and make my usual jaunt through the lobby area where I see the False Oz just now getting up the steps and making his way over to his work.

Wow. Now, I'm not exactly a ball of fire on most days, but even I draw the line at napping on park benches during the day. No sir, I always take my naps on the toilet (after waltzing in around ten a.m., googling my own name for two hours, and then taking a donut break...unfortunately, I yelled this out while making love to my wife one night, so she's onto me).