We've got a dock boss out at the warehouse that's a pretty good kid. When I say kid, I mean he is a fucking youngster, maybe 24-25 years old. He was a truck driver but switched over to management a couple of years ago. Hell of a great guy - a boss that actually admits he has stuff to learn and isn't shy about asking questions if he doesn't understand something. He also leaves me the fuck alone when I'm working and that's a big plus in his favor. We'll call him Junior here because, well, because that's what I call him.
Anyways, about a week before my vacations start, I let everybody know about it, reminding them in the loudest tone at every opportunity. "Hey Junior, 3 more days, man." When it's the day before, I'm counting down hours and minutes. "6 hours, 33 minutes and counting."
It's gotten to be a ritual that everybody in the office participates in it, but Junior really jumped on the bandwagon, even going so far as to call me on my cell to count down the days til his vacation.
So the other day I was doing a little math - I get 5 weeks of vacation a year starting next year and I've still got 2 weeks left for this year. When I saw Junior this morning I walked up and said one word: "Twelve".
"Twelve? Twelve days til your next vacation?" he asks.
"Nope. Twelve more vacations before I'm eligible to retire. How many do you have, motherfucker?"
Somehow Junior didn't see the humor in that.