I wasn’t always a renegade astronaut working to bring down the Space Man from the inside. Long before I became the cynical, jaded husk you all know and love, I was a fresh-faced and apple-cheeked go-getter with a sparkling outlook on life. Delicious Juice Dot Com was not yet a glimmer of a twinkle in my eye, so there was no need for a sneaky code name for my job – it just was what it was.

I used to work for Procter and Gamble, manufacturing overlord of all things that go in or on your body. I started out as a maternity replacement for the Executive Assistant, and quickly became indispensable and also permanent – the lady didn’t want her job back, and who was I to argue. I enjoyed my job, but even then my abundant sass was bubbling up and over my good girl persona. P&G was and always has been a very conservative company, and the bright pink streaks and nose ring I sported were just not suitable for an Executive Assistant to the president of P&G West. My admittedly awesome technical skills had not gone unnoticed though, and soon I found myself promoted to not only a full-time real employee but one who was responsible for all things technical west of Ontario. Not too shabby, as I don’t have the paperwork to back up my genius (or a high school diploma, if you want to get snarky about it).

Years passed, and my title changed almost quarterly. My duties changed a lot too – by the end of my tenure there, I was not only responsible for the technological well-being of about 200 people; I was also the Facilities Manager for our three offices (we moved a lot). I was busy. My title was “Workplace Services Coordinator”. I had an office and a pager and ass marbles the size of our warehouse from trying to keep everything running smoothly.

We had moved from our downtown office to a spacious area out past the airport. However, after a year there we learned that more than half our staff was being let go due to that awesome bitch, Corporate Downsizing. Our office was way, way too big for our remaining suckers, so we looked for a new home. Luckily, we were in a very newly developed area that was owned by one company – they let us choose a smaller space in a new building that was still under construction. I had a great deal of fun playing with office layouts and figuring out everything that was needed, and I frankly did a great job of it. I may not necessarily like what I do, but I *am* awfully good at it – lucky me.

So, what happened? I laughed a little too long and hard at something – given the circumstances – that was completely and utterly inappropriate, but was just so funny I couldn’t help myself. In retrospect, I really should have tried to help myself, or at the very least save my helpless peals of laughter for when I *wasn’t* on a conference call with some very high higher ups.

Almost everyone knows about Procter & Gamble and the whole “we support the Church of Satan!” story (which, for the record, is not true – don’t sue me). It might seem obvious to those with any sort of common sense, but there is an unfortunately large portion of the population who believe everything they’re told – and as such, really believe that P&G and Satan are BFF because Aunt Martha’s hairdresser’s boy’s friend from two towns over saw the president of P&G on Oprah or Donahue (never happened) hailing Satan and why would he lie about such a thing? Look at the FACTS! It was on TV! There are STARS on their LOGO! I’m never buying any of their 900+ products ever again, lordy lordy!

While you and I know the whole thing is just one big stupid urban legend, there are a lot of people who think otherwise – and as such, P&G is very concerned about their image, wanting to avoid any more bullshit and lawsuits (they successfully sued Amway for many many moneys because their agents were spreading the gospel as truth to the gullible). For example, Cover Girl will never launch a line of goth makeup; Sunny D isn’t about to come out with Blood Red Berry Burst; you’ll never see an ad campaign about on how well Tide with Bleach gets those pesky sacrificial blood stains out of your altar cloth; and Secret might very well be strong enough for the Prince of Darkness himself but it really is made for women. There are people in P&G who take care of this kind of thing. It is Serious Business.

So, when I found out that our new office address was going to be 7666 Middle-of-Nowhere Lane, my reaction probably *shouldn’t* have been to laugh so hard I damn near wet myself. Nope, not at all. Restraint, I’ve heard, can be used outside the bedroom too.

To be fair, 7666 isn’t the reason I left P&G – I too was a victim of Corporate Downsizing – but I did get quite the talking to afterwards. I don’t really see why – I was the one who brought it to their attention well in advance so they could petition the city for a new building number. If anything, I’m a hero. Where’s my shiny gold star and lifetime supply of Old Spice? Some people just don’t appreciate my brilliance.

It *was* funny, though.