ctive college students. We titled it "Don't be a Platypus." (My contention in the article is that the platypus seems confused and unorganized.)The problem, Alecia told me, was that she could find no good photos for purchase of a platypus. She was even dealing directly with the New Zealand park service but still: no luck getting a good, printable platypus photo. Weird. So, being the problem solver I am, I told Alecia I would draw her a picture of a platypus instead. So, I got out my marker and drew this delightful Platypus sketch (at right). You can tell he is confused by the big question mark. He's in a barrel because I don't know what a platypus' body looks like. He is however ready for a formal event.
Alecia thought my drawing was funny and we all had a good laugh. We changed the article title to not be Platypus-specific. And we hung the platypus up on a cubicle wall in the main hallway of our workarea for everyone to see. But then things went bad. That's when Marilyn saw the platypus. Marilyn, our administrative assistant, has a burning hot hatred for the platypus. She insults it anytime she can. She doesn't understand why I drew it. She doesn't like the way it is drawn. She wants it taken down. She doesn't like his tail. She doesn't understand why he's in a barrel or wearing a keen bowtie. She doesn't think a platypus would wear shoes. Hardly a week goes by in which Marilyn does not hurl comments about how much the drawing bothers her or ask why it is still up.
Well, with my artist's pride tattered, I got sweet vindication a couple weeks ago. Former designer Esther came to the office with her 1-year-old Lydia. Lydia loved the platypus. She giggled and pointed at it. She couldn't take her eyes off it. I pointed out to Marilyn how much Lydia liked it.
I don't think the platypus' sudden popularity really impressed Marilyn. Oh well.
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