Casual Elegance and the Short Bus

        If you have never worn a sweatshirt blazer to your place of employment, then you probably have a minimal- if any- understanding of the following two words:

        Casual Elegance. 

Don't even try.

        If you don't understand casual elegance, then you're probably a commoner.  Bad news, my place of employment just demoted me to commoner status today. They tried, anyway. Obviously, there are powers that be who have not experienced my sweatshirt blazer.  Fools.  I bet this is the guy who sent me an email with RED BOLD FONT...

"He tortured me. With his awfulness." - Michael Scott

        "AFTER REVIEWING THE 2012 PARKING AUDIT, IT HAS BEEN DETERMINED THAT YOU ARE NO LONGER AUTHORIZED TO PARK ON CAMPUS..."

        What the -.

        I'll tell you what happened.

        Well, actually, there's not much to it.  They took away my parking.  You see, technically, I don't have the seniority to park on campus.  (No, I don't work downtown, or in another heavily populated area of the city where parking is scarce, but that's a blog for another day.)  However, as it is with most technicalities, there is often a way around it.  My way of avoiding schlepping in on mass transit and/or shuttles was to... park in the garage, where technically,  I wasn't allowed to park.  Genius, no?  In reality, nobody seemed to notice or care for the last three years.  You see, I was also technically allowed to park on campus because no one had updated my authorization level.  Technically, I forgot to mention it to the parking people.  Damn if they didn't figure it all out.  Curses!

        Do you see how tortured by awfulness I am?

Technically, this is my sister, but her look accurately depicts my face as I read the email revoking my parking privileges.

        Guess what, though?  Joke's on HR! I will never be a commoner. They can ban me to the furthest lot on the slowest shuttle route, yet I will always drink my Perrier with my pinky out.  Boom.  Try and stop me.  

We are sooooo not commoners.  If this doesn't prove it,  I don't know what does.

        Ever been demoted?  Ever had someone try to make you ride the short bus (AKA: shuttle) to work?  Don't worry my friends, they can take your parking pass, but they can never take your pinky.  Maybe in Egypt, they can...Actually, I wouldn't test that place right now.  But if you're stateside, hold your pinky out with pride; show The Man who's boss.  (It's basically the classy middle finger.)  

It's casual. It's elegant.  It screams F the Man.