So I've been trying to figure out where I fall on the Data/Capri-Sun Intelligence Scale (with Data being super-smart and Capri-Sun being drinkable with a tiny straw).*
When I hang out with Devon and his friends and they talk about tech stuff, I feel like I have neurological damage. One time, when John, Devon and I were at a bar in Jersey, my eyes rolled into the back of my head, and I drooled a little into my Sam Adams Octoberfest. One of the benefits of being quiet most of the time is that you can have a 'tard seizure** and no one notices. I recognize the vocabulary and sentence structure as English, but the sentences have no meaning. Like "Window run bright and slow to tomorrow."
I have these seizures often.
Then, just when I think I'm too retarded** to be allowed out in public, I'm forced into a meeting to learn how to use the office phones. Yes, they are training us how to use phones. Next week, we are getting swank new phones with back-lit screens and 28 different ring tones. (They still can't figure out how to get us caller ID, which is sad, because if I had caller ID, I might answer my phone once in awhile.) At the training, half of my co-workers complained that the phones were too complicated. Soft keys are, apparently, too new-fangled for the average cube monkey.
I suppose I can see the problem. Soft keys require a certain psychological flexibility. One minute this key means "call forward," and the next it means "transfer call to a nonexistent extension where caller will listen to pre-recorded music for 20 minutes, then be cut off." It's like dream interpretation. One minute that "naked at the office" dream symbolizes vulnerability, and the next it means you're a sick pervert who shouldn't be allowed near elementary schools.
The lesson in all this is to always carry a beer to catch your 'tard drool. **
* I lost faith in IQ testing when everyone I knew claimed to have an IQ of at least 140.
** I know. People aren't allowed to use this word anymore. Sorry. ***
*** I'm not really sorry.