Irony has its limits

I was not amused when I saw a stack of these bags on a cart of new merchandise at my place of employment yesterday. Way to rub consumers' faces in it, I thought. I took one of the bags into my office and showed it to my co-workers.

"I don't get it," said Patrick.

"I think it's supposed to be funny," said Ali.

I left the bag sitting on the scanner next to my desk and forgot all about it. It was still there when I came in this morning and I got all het up about it all over again. I took the bag into the manager's office.

"Have you seen this?" I asked her. The look on her face was priceless: I could tell she thought it was the tackiest, most in-poor-taste thing she'd seen in ages, but she obviously was trying to appear enthusiastic.

"It's funny, right?" she said.

"I don't think it's funny!" I snapped. "I think it's gross."

"Oh, thank god." She started to laugh. "I saw it sitting next to your desk and I thought you liked it and were going to buy it. I thought, 'Well, if she likes it, there must be something funny about it and maybe I'm just not getting it.'"

She called the gift buyer and told her to return the bags. It made me feel really powerful and I started wondering what else I could hate and make disappear.