DEA

My office shares the 10th floor with the Drug Enforcement Agency. They are the only people in the building with a more lax dress code than we have. They have a special, caged section of the parking garage for impounded cars. A midget works there.* Overall they seem to be a tough crowd but they have only been friendly to my coworkers and me when we cross paths in the hallway or the bathroom.

Back to the story: They have a few doors to their section of the floor. I've noticed that behind one of the doors appears to be some sort of examining room or maybe a processing room. As I walked past that room today I heard a man yelling, "Spit it out! Spit it out!" I've tried to imagine the different scenarios that would create this outcry at the DEA. Maybe I'll ask the next time I'm standing next to one of their workers at the urinals.

*I traded political correctness for honesty and straight-forward reporting. I only mention the midget because she startles me whenever I turn the corner and find a three-foot tall person waiting for the elevator. And then I imagine her conducting a drug bust and laying the smackdown on a bunch of coke-dealers - knocking them to the floor and cuffing their hands behind their backs as they wince in pain. And then she makes a smark aleck remark a la Law & Order - something along the lines of, "You're not in Kansas anymore, eh, cokehead?" or some other Oz reference to rebuke the drug fiends' initial smirks and comments at her size.