Little bit more...

Yesterday, I was listening to the radio on the way to work and there was some news piece about the number of businesses owned by African-Americans in the Michigan region. The speaker was going rah-rah on the strength of the African-American community when he came up with this little nugget.

African-Americans own more than Seventeen thousand five hundred and thirty businesses in the Michigan state.

I mean, come on, if you got down to the thirty level in that huge count, why not tell me the exact number? Or why not say more than 17500 or maybe more than 17000. Why do you need to add "more than" when you are stating, what I believe, is a fairly accurate count? Does it make the number sound that much more big? What is it?

Reminds me of another commercial I heard on the radio...this was for a furniture warehouse...

We have more than six locations in Metro XXXXX!!!

Really? You serious? Don't leave me hanging, dude. The suspense is killing me. How many more? One? Two? Or, dare I suggest, even Three... taking the total to, wait, let me add them up, yes...nine??? Holy Moley! That is an incredible number of stores to have. I won't be able to sleep till I know of the exact number of stores. Tell me, Tell me....

Ice Ice baby

Some background: the place where I work, quite a few people sit in one big conference room. And it gets fairly noisy at times. Whenever somebody has to attend any personal calls, the person usually steps out of the room into the common corridors and takes the calls there. The corridors are adjoining the break room with coffee machine, refrigerator etc.

So...a few days ago, I was attending to a call in this common corridor. And I saw an ice cube lying on the ground. The urge to do something really foolish overtook any trace of sensibility that I might possess and I kicked the ice cube. Kicked it hard. As the ice cube marked it's hurried path across the corridor, I looked up to realize that something stood between the ice cube and the end wall. a GIRL!!! My luck being what it is, the ice cube hit her shoes. She looked up and stared at me. Puzzled.

I decided to turn on my charms full blast, covered the mouthpiece of the phone and whispered " I am sorry" and gave her my smile #36. It had got me out of troubles before, why not now. The distance separating us and corridor being not very well lit ( we are saving energy, you see), she failed to read my lips for the sign of a genuine folly. She gave me the stare that would have melted the polar ice caps and singlehandedly achieved what the whole mankind has been unable to do with all their CFC emissions for past several decades.

Anyway, things seem to get back to normal after that. Just a couple of days ago I saw her again in the corridor and she gave me a look that I failed to decipher. I think it means one of two things:
1) She misunderstood me and is really angry.
2) She REALLY misunderstood me and is very "not angry"

Both the situations put me in a predicament. My action was unintentional, or it was intentional with unintentional consequences. She is not exactly the kind of girl I would have thrown ice at normally (if you get my drift).

Notes to self:

• Avoid corridors.
  
• Look around corners before turning.
  
• Walk with the eyes lowered.
• DO NOT smile.
• WHY ME???