The place where I have been working since August was founded by an unusual couple. They are vegans, which isn't so weird here in California, but once I accidently showed a picture of a prime rib to the founders wife and she started crying. Note to self...
There is a company cat named Squeakers and once there was a company rooster named Stanley.
Stanley wandered into the warehouse one day when he was still a chick. They hoped it would be a Stella, but the chick grew into a Stanley which meant constant crowing and ocassionally aggresive behavior. Stanley was tolerated, nay revered, and he lived in an old cargo container in the warehouse. Stanley had a tendency to try to peck people on the legs. Some people used the broom to try to swoosh him away; they also kept a spray bottle handy that emitted a strong stream of water that Stanley didn't care for. One guy always wore chaps (he worked with a long upright saw) and he just let Stanley peck away, basically ignoring him. Last summer the warehouse caught fire and Stanley got roasted. In memory we have a Stanley award for the person who demonstrates the qualities of goal-oriented perseverence and tenacity that Stanley embodied. Have I mentioned we are insane in California?
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