As some of you may have noticed, I was born without an impulse-control function. This makes me very much a spontaneous gift-giver [which also applies to sexual favours — if you don’t ask then you are that much more likely to receive — although your likelihood will not increase from minus-zero]. I hate the obligatory gift-giving that goes along with anniversaries and wedding showers and suchlike. Rather, whenever I come across something that I think would make a perfect present for somebody I like, assuming I can afford it at the time, then I go ahead and buy it for them. Sometimes I hoard it and wait with gritted teeth for their birthday. Other times I give in to my non-existent patience span and hand over the goodies right away. I have been known to give Kwanzaa gifts in July and Halloween gifts in March. I like to think of these little presents as “Unoccasional Gifts”. In February I gave blooming tea sets to both an engaged couple [whose wedding is sometime this summer] and to my favourite goddess whose birthday is not until June. I regularly give myself surprise gifts — especially the gift of self-love. Recently, I gave an Unoccasional Gift to a friend at work . . . just because. That’s how I roll, folks.

This is not an original idea, but it is my creative version of an “emergency office manual” that made its way around the email circuit in photo form some time ago. My favourite baby shark young lawyer at work was especially taken with the concept and subsequently stopped-by to ask for The Red Binder on several occasions. My friend’s initials, by the way, happen to be “ROC”. His birthday is in May. It is now March. Both months start with the letters “Ma-”. So there you have it.

♦ . . . The hot chick at the bar gave you a fake number. You find out later she wasn’t really a chick anyway. After kissing “her” goodnight.

♦ . . . The dog ate your brief[s]. I’m not referring to the four-legged type of canine. Nor the underwear type of briefs.

♦ . . . The office MILF grabs your arse at the Holiday Party. You belatedly realise just how bad of an idea it was to get your Mum a job at your law firm.

♦ . . . When the judge asks you “Counselor, are you showing contempt for my court?” You accidentally respond with “No, your Honour, I was doing my best to hide it!”

♦ . . . You get caught ROC-ing the Purple Tie in the elevator. By a weird-looking stranger. Who offers to lend you a hand.

♦ . . . Five minutes to filing deadline and the copier jams, your assistant quits, the building catches fire. But, worst of all, your iPod explodes.

ROC ON!!!!!

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