My telephone just rang indicating a call from a payphone (BTW, don't you have a cell, it's 2006? I don't even know where to find a payphone in the city these days!). When I heard your voice, it was like a cruel flashback. Am I being punished? Have a wronged someone?
I know you know it was me who answered but casually asked to speak to the Vice President anyway. He's out of the office thank God, so you'll have to wait. What is it you want though? Are you trying to weasel your way back to work here?
I guess I'll have to wait to see how this one unfolds....
You came all the way over to my desk just to open your pay stub with my letter opener! I don't get it!! Why can't you open envelopes at your own desk? Do you need me to lend you the money so you can get a letter opener of your own?
You're a total fucking asshole. I go into a meeting for an hour, and return to my desk to find my iPod gone. I hope karma bites you in the ass real bad.
I do owe you a thank you though. My boss has offered to buy me a new one. So while you walk around town with my old 20G monochromic model circa 2004, I'll be sporting the newer 30G black video/picture model.
Thanks everyone for coming to our staff meeting today. You all added a little something special to my day.
Thanks to my boss for singling me out as the only person not playing in the company ball game later this afternoon. I'd sooner die, just for the record, and you're a prick.
Thanks to the staff who made short presentations at the meeting today. You're better than a sleeping pill. I must have nodded off at least 3 or 4 times only to be shocked back awake by the weight of my head dropping to my chest.
Thanks to the pimple-faced middle-ager with greasy hair and bad clothes. Looking at you put me off my lunch and listening to you argue things in the meeting to score points with my boss was really cool. You're so cool. So cool.
I wish my friends and I had chosen a different line to wait in. Getting stuck behind you was painful.
US: chatting, waiting in line, basically minding our own business. YOU: standing in front of us but facing us listening to everything we said.
Not only that but your constant sighing and annoyed look on your face was a pitiful cry for help. You were just begging me to say something to you. You're so pathetic.
So I did. What was I thinking?!
YOU: *sigh* (disturbed face) ... for the millionth time! ME: rough day? YOU: (i don't really know what you said, because I didn't care and didn't really listen, but you were babbling on about how you bought something that didn't fit in your car I think. You must drive a SmartCar or something because that box you had was tiny and would easily fit in any car)
You know, if you want to make conversation with someone, then just say something! I didn't want to talk to you but you made it unavoidable -- you were turned around, starting at me, listening to my friends and I talking and sighing so loudly that it was an intrusion! I actually do feel sorry for you; you probably have no friends and I bet I made your day by talking to you.
I just heard you asking someone about their sinus congestion and you pronounced it sin-us instead of syne-us.
No wonder we can't understand you! You speak like a drunk and make up your own words!
Oh, and you know how you asked me earlier where you could find a mouse pad and I told you that I'd pick some up when I go out for lunch later? Well, I bought them a few hours ago. Now I'm just being a dick and making you wait.
It’s Company Event time again and you want me to plan something that you know I don’t want to be a part of. Fuck you.
OK, the last event that I dreaded turned out to be relatively painless, I’ll give you that; but I am not travelling to the next city over to play some stupid ball game with everyone one night after work. I’d rather have a pap smear with a pitch fork. Seriously, I’m thisclose to raiding the company liquor cabinet to do a round of shots so that your presence doesn’t make me want to exfoliate every inch of my body.
I don’t mind my job, I can handle that … it’s all the morons that work here that drive me fucking crazy. It’s like a “Which One of These Doesn’t Belong?” puzzle and the answer is me! I've never been around so many lame asses in my life ... if I wasn't getting paid for it, I'd be gone.
I'm calling you that because by the looks of it, you've got to be the Black Sheep of your family.
You bare no resemblance to your family member who you've come to visit. He is clean-cut and attractive and you look dirty, homeless and drunk.
Ummm ... got any downers? (Based on your speech, I assume you are on these now). I really could have used some this past weekend when unable to sleep after hours of dancing.
Your lack of judgement and tendency to state the obvious to me all the time drives me fucking crazy.
I expected an important document from you on Friday … it did not arrive. Why? Because you overnight couriered it with FedEx and put the wrong address on it.
You had to ask someone else for the tracking number to see where it was. When you did receive the tracking number, you forwarded it to me like this was my problem to solve. Knowing how you operate, I immediately tracked the package online and told you that you had the wrong address on it before you even found the phone number for FedEx.
I’ve spoken to them twice now – on Friday and today - and I have been told the package will arrive today. It is after 3:00pm now and it has not … but I love how you just called me to tell me that it should be here. Yes I know that you stupid fuck-up, I’m the person who is waiting for this package to arrive so I can continue my work; had you not fucked up in the first place I wouldn’t be writing about you right now. I must say, I also love how you just asked me for FedEx’s phone number again … I’m already pissed off with this situation and you can’t look the number up yourself?
I don’t know, call me crazy but here’s my simple solution for this problem. Since we do business together often you might want to make a note of my address. Secondly, if you’re going to send me something by courier, send it by one of those ones that deliver within the city, we work in the same city – why are you over-nighting something to me?
It’s a good thing I only have to deal with you a few days out of each month. Every time I pick up the phone and hear your voice I feel like my blood pressure rises.
Ok, that's twice now in the span of an hour and I just can't keep quiet about this one.
When you call the office with a concern, either myself or a colleague will gladly transfer your call to someone who can help you. When I do, however, and they happen to not answer the phone, please do not call me back and tell me that they did not answer their phone. It means they are not at their desk and you should leave them a message you fucking idiot!!
I don't understand. What do you actually think? Do you think that they're looking at the call display, seeing your name and laughing at you? (I do, when you call back. Sometimes I even swear and call you dirty names but that's not the point). The point is, when someone doesn't answer, they are not there, it's as simple as that. They could be at lunch, they could be in a meeting, they could be in the bathroom ... anything. So that said, perhaps you could do me a favour and screw off.
Ummm … you just asked me if it was a long weekend. Don’t you have a calendar you twit?! I should have told you it wasn’t just to see if you would have come to work on Monday.
And while we’re at it … please stop staring at me so much. Honestly … I don’t get you. You walk by my desk and stare at me, I walk by yours and you stare at me … I feel like whenever I’m within your peripheral vision, something goes off inside you telling you to fixate your eyes on me. It’s fucking creepy – stop it.
You're going to come around and ask if me if I'm ready to go for lunch soon and I really don't want to go for lunch with you today. I hate faking interest and that's all I ever do with you guys.
I've already told you I'd go provided I get all this work done ... hahaha what work? I'm just going to throw some papers on my desk and look frazzled when you come by and tell you I can't go.
For someone in your position, you’re probably one of the least inspiring people I know. It’s like everything about you screams lazy. You can’t even sit in a chair properly unless the back is reclined so much that it’s practically horizontal.
Yesterday you arrived late for our meeting (a very common occurrence) in what can only be described as your pyjamas, and later lead a bunch of co-workers in a loud game of darts while an important client was visiting the office. It’s like you just don’t care. It’s great that we can play games in the office and what not, but you have a terrible sense of judgement when it comes to timing.
Oh and you know those balls that you so affectionately throw around the office? The ones that slam really hard against the walls and sometimes hit people because you think that’s fun? Well, when I find them around the office, I throw them in the garbage.
