Work was... um... interesting today.
My week day night security person is French Canadian. He struggles with his English on occasion, so it's not unusual for him to wander into the office, grab the French-English dictionary, and look up words. He'll ask me how to say them, ask for them in a sentence, stuff like that.
He comes over to me last night, and is pointing to the word nudity. "What's another way of saying this?" he asks.
"Naked." Then I blink. "Why do you ask?"
"Ah, yes. Naked. There is a naked man on the 5th floor."
(Oh, for those who don't know, I work night audit at a hotel.)
"Yes, on the fifth floor. He was getting ice."
"Naked. Man. On the fifth floor. Getting ice."
He grin at me. "Yes. He was from Quebec. He just wanted ice. I explained he had to go back to his room."
I burried my face in my hands. "Well, at least it's the fifth floor. It's only a team on that floor, no one else. So, it would only be his team mates seeing him. Naked. Getting ice."
He walked away to start getting the papers. Later on, I was staring at him again. "Naked?"
"Yes!" He grin at me, then made this rather unmistakable hand gesture about ... things... dangling and stuff and size and oh my poor eyes and brain. "He was uncircumsized."
And that, ladies, gentlemen, and others, was my day at work.