Sunday, June 05, 2005

Grumpy Moff = The Man!

With less than a week left before leaving for the pre-"Death Star" briefings on Coruscant, I finally gathered the courage to talk to Officer Hot Stuff this morning. Granted, I've spoken to her but it doesn't really count when the conversation consists of one person shouting, "I...um...I'll see you tomorrow" as the other party is leaving an elevator. Nope, this was a full-on two people speaking dictionary definition of a conversation.

Here's the scene. I was waiting for Officer Hot Stuff to take elevator 3NS down to her station in the hanger bay. As usual, I was playing it cool - I had my turbolaser maintenance log with me to ensure that I was on "official Imperial business" (which, technically I was, but it always makes me look more important).

Officer Hot Stuff arrived a little later than she usually did which gave me the time to perfect what I was going to say. Because I'm just that smooth. Here's how the conversation went:

Officer Hot Stuff arrives. "Going down?"

Grumpy Moff (coolly, without any hesitation): "Always. I always like going down."

OHS (her left eyebrow raises and a smirk crosses her lips): "You like going down?"

GM: "Sure, I mean, who doesn't like going down? It's...um...it's always a fun time. I can go down on you anytime."

OHS: "You can go down on me? Shouldn't we have dinner first?"

GM (my brain slowly maneuvers into hyperdrive to cover up this verbal faux pas): "Oh...um...ha ha! I get it. You thought I meant...no, no, no, I would never go down on you...I mean...what I meant to say was that I like riding elevators down. Because they take you places. Places you need to go. Or be. Or both. You can go up too in an elevator. Sometimes. Depending on which button you push. "

At this point, my uniform collar feels like it's tighter than a Darth Vader choke grip after telling him that you think his breathing noise is really annoying.

OHS: "Gotcha. You like riding elevators but you won't go down on me. I'd hate to see what would happen if we ever got stuck in an elevator together. I'll make a mental note of it if the situation ever arises." (she chuckles slightly to herself and adjusts the Imperial cap covering her perfect mane of crimson hair)

Officer Hot Stuff pushes the down button on elevator 3NS. For the next four seconds, the Devastator appears to have been caught in some sort of temporal flux because I swear 3 hours of pure painful silence passed before the elevator door opened. She steps in and I suddenly feel an urge to inspect the maintenance report log in my hand, or look at my shoes, or count the number of rivets in the ceiling, or anything besides making eye contact with her. "You coming?" she asks.

GM: "Only if you're going down on me. With me. I'm coming...into the elevator...to go down. To ride the elevator down. I mean (deep sigh) I am going to step into the elevator and allow it to transport me to a lower level while standing next to you and not saying anything remotely stupid that could be interpreted as breaking the Imperial sexual harrassment policy because I'm really not that kind of guy. In fact, I'm a pretty good worker and normally quite articulate, it's just this instance..."

Officer Hot Stuff has the opportunity to push the close button on the elevator while my verbal vomit is flying all over the place. But she's way too cool for that. Instead, she simply laughs at my rambling and says, "Hey. It's cool. Get in the elevator before I kick your ass for sounding like Captain Stupid (she didn't call him Captain Stupid, but you get the idea)."

My words stop faster than a speeder bike running into a building. "You hate Captain Stupid too?"

OHS: "Oh yeah, he's the most annoying person on the Devastator. At least you're just babbling to cover up your stupid mistakes. He just babbles cause he's an idiot." Her forehead wrinkles and a sly grin spreads across her lips. "Well, I suppose in this case, you're both idiots. But he's a different kind, much more annoying. You're more of a clumsy idiot."

GM: "Oh, don't get me started on Captain Stupid. He borrowed my Death Star plans and it took..."

Officer Hot Stuff's demeanor completely changes. Her shoulders straighten up and her eyes focus on me with a clarity that I've never felt. This is either the greatest moment of my life or the worst - I can't tell yet. "You're transferring to the Death Star?"

GM: "Oh yeah, I leave in 6 days. Well, we're going to Coruscant first for a briefing with the Emperor and Tarkin and some other higher-ups, but yeah, then I'll be section 2197's turbolaser maintenance supervisor. (shrugs shoulders) I guess I got lucky. I'll miss the Devastator though."

OHS: "I've been begging to transfer to the Death Star. It's a fascinating piece of technology. Even if that moron Vader is going to be there."

Before I can comment on her ballsy insult of Vader, she steps forward. The elevator, sensing the loss of weight without any passengers, closes up its doors. "Do you think I could get a look at the Death Star plans? Just a peek, maybe over breakfast or something?"

This is now the defining moment of my life. Officer Hot Stuff has asked to spend time with me! Well, actually, she wants to spend time with my Death Star plans, but they're my plans, and that means that she will have to be in my presence as she checks them out.

GM: "Yes."

There is another one of those awkward pauses caused by my verbal brilliance.

OHS: "Yes...I can look at your Death Star plans, maybe over breakfast or something?"

GM: "Yes, how about over breakfast tomorrow. That'd be great. I might even go down on you (I say this half joking, half wishing, half getting ready to sell my soul to the Jedi or the Hutts or whoever else may have the wacky power to make this real. Unfortunately, she doesn't laugh at my joke. In fact, I think it creeps her out a little bit as her eyes shuffle from left to right). Ha ha. Just kidding. You know, cause we had our little misunderstanding before and um...oh, never mind."

OHS (shaking her head - I can't tell if this is amusement, irritation, or just plain disgust at my complete lack of tact): "Tomorrow morning. I'll drop by your quarters at 0600 hours?"

GM: "Yes! Yes. That sounds good. Tomorrow morning. I'll make a note of it."

OHS: "Good." She pushes the down button on the elevator and the doors open again. "Going down?"

This time, I simply nod my head and step inside. I don't say a word for the entire elevator ride, not even my customary "See you tomorrow!" that I try to throw in during elevator rides with her. Instead, I let her step out on her stop, punch my stop, and let the loudest howls of joy that the galaxy has ever known accompany me on the journey up.

Yesterday, I was just a Grumpy Moff. Today, I am the MAN!

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