Stapler remover

A. kidnapped my stapler and held it for ransom. The payoff seemed pretty reasonable -- "you must buy me 7 ice cream cones" -- but it was the principle of the thing. I don't negotiate with terrorists.

At first blush, ingenious. At second blush, I'm disappointed. This sad, transparent attempt for attention falls far short of the expected. First of all, the sadistic kidnapping of a stapler is in no way "new" (see also, "Excuse me, I think you have my stapler," "Help, my stapler has been kidnapped," and "Buy me lunch or the stapler gets it.")

Second of all, who the hell signs a ransom note with their actual name? That just puts CSI workers out of business. Maybe A. should have just waited there with my stapler in her hands so there could be no doubt at who's feet to lay blame. Oh, wait, that's right -- A. signed the note. Ok, one point for solid time management.

Finally, A. never actually removed the stapler from my office; just put it in a bottom drawer of my desk. That's not forward thinking by anyone's standard. Where were the pictures of the stapler tied up or, worst yet, being surrounded and taunted by a team of Crazy Glue, Binder Clip and Post-It Note thugs? Where were the follow-up phone calls demanding the requested booty? I never once had to look into how to tap my phone. And why didn't A. send me individual staples, one at a time, over the course of a week, as if to say, here's an ear, here's a finger, here's an eye... WHERE ARE MY GODDAMN 7 ICE CREAM CONES?

No, no A. Is it possible you're slipping? Perhaps I overestimated you. Is that really all you got?