It was 4:30 PM and I was ready to have a Friday night's worth of fun before tackling some freelance for the majority of the weekend, but at the last possible minute the design gulag's most important of clients needed emergency rush proofing on a major project, namely the cards and stickers for the upcoming Hannah Montana collectibles they're producing.
Being the stalwart that I am, I took one for the team and stayed late while the QC (Quality Control) guys from the client came over and hashed out some last minute details with Disney and fed me what needed to be gone over. I did this, but while I did it I figured, "Ya know, this is time I could be going to the movies, reading, or chasing poontang, but since I'm voluntarily helping out some of my fellow gulag inmates I may as well grab a couple of brews and unashamedly toss them down my esophagus while on the clock and under full view of the security cameras." With that thought in mind I went downstairs and availed myself to the overpriced beers in the neighboring Duane Greed, er, Reade and meandered back to my workspace.
Once back at my "office," I cracked open a couple of tubes of neck oil and got into the buzzed-and-proofin' groove, merrily cranking a random shuffle of punk, metal, and unclassifiable music ("The Myterious Clown" by the Mysterious Clown was played) to fuel my perusal of pre-release minutia.
If ya gotta work late, work late in style. And the best part is, this kind of behavior is considered kosher once regular work hours are over, so if this happens again I may just play a Mercyful Fate album backwards and have a coven of buxom witchy chix ritually shave my bush and use if for a burnt offering to Aphrodite. AWRIGHT!!!