My Job. You Gotta Love It.

Once upon a time, there was me.  I was sitting in my chair, as I do every day, when my phone rang.

BETHANY:  This is Bethany.
EMPLOYEE:  Bethany.  This is XXXX.  I'm hurt.
BETHANY:  Uh-oh.  How bad is it?
EMPLOYEE:  Well.  It's pretty bad.  I mean, it's really hurting a lot. 
BETHANY:  Okey doke.  What happened?
EMPLOYEE:  Well, I was just sitting here at my desk and a rubber band snapped on my eyeball.
BETHANY:  A rubber band.  Snapped on your eye ball. 
EMPLOYEE:  Yup.  It was wrapped around a tight bunch of mail and the next thing you knew, bam.  It snapped in my eye.
BETHANY:  Oh.  Okay.  Well.  Do you need to see a doctor?
EMPLOYEE:  Well, it happened about five minutes ago.  It's gotten dramatically better in the last minute or two.  But I figure I might need to see a doctor, later on down the road.  Just in case.
BETHANY:  So you are saying I should file a workers' comp. claim for you?
EMPLOYEE:  Yeah.  If you wouldn't mind.  I just don't like to take chances with my eye.

Please note that this conversation, recorded verbatim for your pleasure, is one hundred percent accurate.  At no point did I say "Is this some type of joke?"  Nope.  That's why I'm so good at my job.  I never, ever laugh at people. 

The End.