So I'm down in archives storage (and achoo--what Congressional committee do we talk to to get dusting authorized, let alone digitizing?) when I hear two guys talking outside the door. I'm willing to accept the proposition that they have no idea anyone else is in earshot, but really, think of what these guys do for a living. It's sad.

So I'm not paying much attention, rummaging through yucky boxes of icky stories. I hear another set of footsteps coming down the hall. And one of the guys says, "Hey, that new girl you got? I hear the door swings both ways." And two sets of guy giggles.

Then up spake a voice I recognized, and it was meek and mild and butter would not freakin' melt, I swear. And it said, "Don't let it hit you in the ass on your way out." And the footsteps went on down the hall.

My peeps, man.