The other day we had an employee banquet at work, where we feasted upon the flesh of junior employees.
Okay, really the banquet was catered by Cosetta’s, which is an Italian place in Saint Paul that got busted for employing dozens of illegal immigrants a few years ago. Somehow I got drafted into keeping the vats of mostaciolli full of pasta, so I waited until everyone else ate to take my turn. As I started loading up my plate I started to quietly sing my favorite song with “Free Food” in place of “Balls” in the lyrics.
I hope you like free food –
And then I froze, because my boss’s boss’s boss was standing right next to me. I ladled my plate full of food silently and sat down. In case you’re wondering what the rest of the lyrics would be, here’s how the song played out in my head:
I hope that you like free food, ‘cause that’s what you’re gonna get on your motherfucking face is my motherfucking free food.
I told Zach about the almost-song and he laughed, but everyone else was just really confused, because they haven’t heard the version that I sing to Zach several times a day:
I hope you like Pauls, ‘cause that’s what you’re gonna get on your mother friendly face is my mother friendly Pauls.
If you’re unsure, let me clarify: I do like balls.