When The Bloom Is On The Rose

I’m one that loves a practical joke…NOT the kind that embarrasses or hurts anyone. Just pure fun jokes that bring a laugh to even the most stoic person. There was a guy named Bill that worked with me whose practical jokes were not only unpredictable, but sometimes dangerous. He had a reputation for his antics.

I orchestrated my favorite of all time in the late 1970’s in the Forecast Office. First a little background.

We belong to a HMO for our health care. Regardless what you may hear about HMO’s, ours is one of the best. I visited the doctor one day for one thing or other, and went to the pharmacy to fill a prescription. The pharmacist informed me that “This is Family Planning Month” and they were giving out a box of 36 condoms to each family.

My wife had a hysterectomy and we really didn’t need to worry about birth control, but like a good little consumer, I took the condoms home. After all, in a rainstorm you could use them over the end of your gun barrel to water out. There would probably be a use for them in my shop. Who knows?

Well, those things sat around my shop for some time, and I finally thought it time to get rid of them. The problem was how to dispose of them appropriately.

I was lucky because I was one of those people who thought there’s was the best job in the whole world, and it really was. I worked a week of day shifts, a week of evening shifts and a week of mid-night shifts, the schedule would then repeat itself. The Forecast Office was in the Lake Union Building which was on the shore of Lake Union, in downtown Seattle. The Weather Service leased the entire top floor and the view was spectacular. The lease also included beautiful indoor plants through-out the office and some contracted people to maintained them.

My boss (called the Meteorologist in Charge, or MIC) was extra proud of th gorgeous plants in his office. One night while working the midnight shift, I took the box of condoms to work with me. During some slack time, I opened the box and taped 36 condoms (unopened or course) to his favorite plant and left a note on his desk saying “Congratulations!! Your Rubber Tree Plant is in Bloom!!”

When my shift was over, I gathered up my empty lunch dishes, jacket and whatever, and headed for the door. I passed the MIC’s office and it was easy to overhear him talking to Bill, telling him in rather strong language “This is not funny. There’s women who work here and if even one of them complained we’d both be in trouble.”

As the door closed behind me, I could hear Bill saying “But I didn’t do it!.”

The next day I told the boss that I was the culprit, but he just would believe me. He retired a few years later, and even then he still blamed Bill for the blooms on his precious plant.