Cubicle Death #10

Lately, I’ve been a lot more chummy at work than I normally am.  Having my learned my lesson from working on the plantation–I mean, TSA, I have since taken a very “Swiss approach” to things.  I sit in the corner, pretending I don’t exist whilst proclaiming to be very neutral about everything.  I try hard not to make friends or enemies.  I just don’t want to talk to anybody.  I don’t even want anybody to know my name. 

This was kind of difficult at First Job After TSA because it was customer-service oriented.  Second Job After TSA was easier to be unnoticeable.  Third Job After TSA I didn’t even start warming up to my co-workers until two weeks before I qut.  Now, I’m six months into the job at Fourth Job After TSA, and I’m finally starting to learn some of my co-workers’ names. 

In my last Cubicle Death blog, I introduced you to some of my stranger co-workers.  These guys are gads smarter than I’ll ever be, but their personalities leaves much to be desired, as it does with most people of singular intelligence.  Not to say they’re assholes or anything like that, they’re just… weird.

Creepy Stare At You From Over the Cubicle Wall Guy has been flirting with me in this bizarre manner.  Never mind the fact that he’s about 25 years older than me, but he also hints that he’s gay.  If he is gay, then why does he turn on the Super Wal-Mart Salesman Charm every time I see him?  Then he lingers by my desk when I’m actually trying to work.  He tells me repeatedly that I’m his hero and he wants to be like me when he grows up.  Uhm, okay?  Today, he showed up at my desk with a Lean Cuisine and asked me if I was going out to lunch.  When I told him I didn’t eat out to lunch on Fridays because I always have dinner out instead, he walked away a little bit disgruntled, but came back to my desk six more times trying to convince me that it would be a great day to have Thai food.  I handed him the menu but he was like, “I wanted to go out to eat.”  I may go out and buy food a lot, but I don’t actually sit in the restaurant when I order out to lunch.  The only time I ever do that is with SF and this 6’4 knock-kneed, gap-toothed behemoth doesn’t look anything like she does.

I guess I’m kind of cranky today because I didn’t get to have my early morning nap.  On days that I come to work early, I have myself a 15 minute power nap at my desk just to get charged up for the work day.  The guys in my office like to come in late.  Most of them don’t arrive until 9.  There’s only one guy who beats me into the office, Mr. I Have A Body Function Control Problem.  Seriously, this guy cannot control his bodily functions.  First, he breathes like he’s drowning.  He sucks in his breath, holds it, and then lets it out in this great big whoosh and then sucks the air back up like he’s been in outer space without a space suit.  And he does this quite rhythmically.  For breakfast he has several pieces of fruit:  some pears, an apple and a few bananas, all of which he slurps and smacks up.  I think he eats too fast because about 15 minutes later he’ll start belching and farting.

Seriously. 

And they aren’t delicate belches.  It’s like BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRPPPPPPP!  and then he’ll pass gas at the same time and then say “excuse me,” like he’s surprised it came out, yet he does it almost every morning!  What is wrong with you!  That is the reason I couldn’t have a nap because his rhapsody of bodily functions was particularly loud this morning.  And then just when I was getting settled down, here comes I Like the Sound of My Own Voice and I’ll Just Shout Down the Telephone So Everyone Can Hear How Poorly I Speak Guy

Oh, my God, seriously.  It is insane.  The other day I was in a meeting with this guy and he had to give a presentation.  He really likes listening to himself speak but he doesn’t actually speak very well.  He has a lot of “uhm….,” “ehh,” and “you know…” and then he’s the type to laugh as if he’s said something horribly funny, but it isn’t a full laugh, it’s more like a stifled chuckle like he’s bemused at his own lack of intelligence.  This guy comes into the office a little earlier than he normally does and he makes a phone call.  At that hour of the morning, around 745, there’s only me and Body Functions Guy.  I Love My Own Voice calls up his colleague and has this unnecessarily loud telephone conversation for about 45 minutes.  But the crazy thing is as more and more people started coming into the office, his voice actually got quieter.  I’m thinking to myself, there were two people in this office who were working in relative quiet for the past hour (despite the punctuation of farts and burps) , don’t you think we would appreciate the continued silence!?  Thanks.

I’m also getting to know Strange Foreign Man Who Has Poor Command of English.  I guess he’s bored or something, and he’s been wandering around the office staring over people’s shoulders as they work.  He started talking to me the other day; and it’s really quit sad because I can’t understand a word he’s saying.  I just smile and nod and hope he’ll go away.  Yesterday he told me that if he were president he wouldn’t allow anybody to own guns.  Then he said he would bomb all of Afghanistan so he could kill the bad guys.  When I asked him about the good people, the innocent children that would be in the way, he said, “Oh, yeah… Uh, I don’t know.” 

Yeah….

We started talking about politics and stuff because the conversation had taken a very heavy toll yesterday.  We started talking about funerals and final wishes.  I went to a funeral yesterday and it seemed kind of… I don’t know.  Anyway, I said that before we all die we should make sure that our final wishes are granted.  My immediate co-worker Mr Personality So Funny Ha-Ha said that when he died he wanted his stomach turned into a mint bowl. He also wouldn’t mind having a bowl of chips and dip placed in his hand.  He said his would be the only funeral where the attendees would receive bats and they could take turns beating the corpse after the eulogy, just to get out any frustration.  After the beating of the corpse, he would be wrapped in Saran and shot out of a canon.

These are the people I work with.

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2 responses to “Cubicle Death #10

  1. Pingback: Go Bananas; Go Wal-Mart

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