Time to Bolt

Boltin’ Time

A new ritual seems to have evolved at work. It’s called Boltin Time. When a certain few of us hit a certain stress threshold, we cue up How Am I Supposed to Live Without You, the scintillatingly luscious love anthem by the master baritone balladeer, Michael Bolton.

How can I possibly describe the hope and longing and regret not just embedded into the power of the song, but into the subliminal coding it imparts onto the overworked, fucked up, vulnerable brain.

Heather belts it like Freddie Mercury imitating a drag queen.

Austin belts it as if begging for change.

Tommy belts it like a football player at karaoke (real stretch there, Tom),

and me, I channel my inner Bono. Sunglasses and all. Did I mention we power the said song through speakers that weigh more than an air conditioner, and at volume 11?

Our co-workers must love us.

The 13th floor called. They asked that we turn it down.

We totally rock out.

You have never seen such collectively passionate lip-synching, gyrating and overall overdone emoting. We have yet to see how this ritual matures. So far, so gooooooood.