A weird thing is going on at my work . . . I have been feeling somewhat excluded lately. Why, you might ask . . . well people seem to be excluding me from the sweets! It's the strangest thing. Someone will come into my office and there will only be two other people sitting there - me and somebody else. The sweets are offered . . . not to me but only to the other person! "Would you like a cookie, Simon?" I am left to salivate obnoxiously while the plate of cookies pass under my nose. At first, I thought it might be some sort of weird Northern Irish hazing ritual - how long until the Canadian girl cracks, grabs the plate of cookies, and procedes to stuff every single one in her mouth? I had been feeling pretty good about passing said ritual without knocking the plate of cookies to the floor and jumping up and down on it to infinity. No sweets had passed under my nose without being offered since Christmas. I thought I had broken these Northern Irish cookie holders. That is, until today. Today, they had apple crumble and I . . . well, I had nothing. I looked longingly at the plastic container, trying to hint suggestively with my eyes but to no avail.
The Northern Irish are definitely tough cookies (what - was that a bad pun?).
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