UGH - SUCH A NASTY BITCH

After successfully avoiding my workplace arch nemesis for this entire week, Susan (the e-mail broadcast QB [Queen Bitch – she actually refers to herself as this, no joke]) enters my cubicle clutching a job jacket.

With all 5’1" of her not so much looming over me, she asks why the estimate I completed exceeds the pre-payment we received for a new client. I knew exactly why and went about supplying the evidence/paperwork.

It probably only took me 15 seconds, but the entire time, which seemed like a minor eternity, I could hear her nostrils flaring. Damn woman, take a fucking Quaalude or something!

Seemingly satisfied with my answer, and unable to find any additional fault with me, she says “well….next time print out ALL the paperwork so I know what the HELL is going on!” then turns and her short, plump frame leaves my field of vision.

What a fucking bitch! Whatever - I can't wait to see Tony tommorrow!

LET THEM EAT CAKE (AND NOT BOTHER ME WHILE DOING SO)

It used to be that my office would celebrate each employees birthday, on their specific birthday (or if it fell on a weekend or holiday a day before or after). At some point last year the discretionary "cake" budget was sliced in half and now we celebrate birthday's once a month.

I use the term "we" loosely as this is as close that mix socially with my co-workers, and I usually have to be coaxed (i.e. guilted) into joining my co-workers in a less-than-rousing rendition of the dreaded Happy Birthday Song, which due to the multi-birthday person "celebration" sounds like:

"...happy birthday JoanSusanToddKimBobbySkip....happybirfthtaaaaaydoooooyooouuu....".

(Usually there are not as many Indians, but that was the closest cheesy picture I could find)

When the candles are blown out I cut loose and usually go have a smoke, but last week I got a call when I went back to my desk. The caller had the wrong number, but this creepy guy from IT stopped by my desk, Styrofoam plate with store bought cake in hand and said "so, you don't eat cake?".

Me: "No, I don't like cake" (which is true, I think it's gross).
IT Guy: (chewing cake) "......oh......"
Me: (shuffling papers to convey a sense of a heavy workload) "Well, uh, then...."
IT Guy: "...........(chewing more cake).............."
Me: (visibly irritated): "....if you'll excuse me, I have to make a call".
IT Guy: (speaking with mouth full of cake): 'Okahlaterthen".

After that unfortunate incident it was all I could do to get to the door to the stairs in time, Camel Light firmly in hand. Really, the farther the distance between my co-workers and I, the better things will be for everybody.

Sure, I'll nod and say "Good Morning!" or talk about the Cubs, but beyond that, let's keep the chit-chat to a minimum people. Especially when your mouth is full.

THIS IS WRONG ON SO MANY LEVELS, PART 2

While lounging in my cubicle at work this afternoon, doing my best impersonation of someone who gives a fuck about his job (i.e., upon hearing the Boss Man approach I pick up the phone and start writing down gibberish on a note pad - this is but one weapon in my slacker arsenal) I over hear the following conversation taking place in the cubicle next to mine:

ANNOYING CO-WORKER: (in a thick eastern European accent) "Hey 'Boss-Ski' I have report ready, blah, blah, etc..."
BOSSMAN: "...so yesterday I sent out two e-mails, one of which I don't think I should have sent out?"
NICE CO-WORKER: (feigning seemingly obvious ignorance) "Oh?"
BOSSMAN: "Yeah, well I am sure you saw the e-mail I sent out about Obama yesterday, right?"
ANNOYING CO-WORKER: (sighs dramatically) "No, no, I so busy with work!"
NICE CO-WORKER: "yeah, I seem to remember something like that..."
BOSSMAN: "Well, Mrs. Bossman pointed out some glaring inaccuracies in that e-mail, so I did some research on www.snopes.com. It seems that Obama really does attend a Christan church on the South Side, and is, in fact, NOT a Muslim. Also, He did NOT in fact, use the Koran instead of the bible when he was sworn into office..."
JUSTIN'S INNER MONOLOGUE: (rolls eyes) "NO FUCKING SHIT!"
BOSSMAN: "...that was another Senator from another state...ugh, hmmm, which one I am not su-"
JUSTIN'S INNER MONOLOGUE: "uh, Minnesota you mis-guided fool!"
NICE CO-WORKER: "Oh, how interesting".
BOSSMAN: "I guess I should look into these things before I send them out to you guys".
JUSTIN'S INNER MONOLOGUE: (fist clenched) "You fucking GUESS?"

Argh! This is not a joke - I was actually privy to this conversation at work this afternoon, and it took all the patience I could muster not to lose it. Of course, I had to immediately vacate my desk and go outside for a cigarette to chill out, but, we all have different ways to cope, I suppose.

If I were to be "fair and balanced" (HAHA) I would give him credit for taking the time out his apparently less than busy day to do the research to disown his temporarily misguided beliefs, but that's like proclaiming someone "World's Greatest Grandpa", by which I mean that would be a hollow, obvious and vacant proclamation. FUCK THAT.

Moving On...

After receiving the semi-infamous e-mail yesterday I was eating lunch when a weird 312 area code number popped up on my phone. I didn't answer but the voicemail I received certainly piqued my curiosity, as it was a call from a recruitment agency I had interviewed with about two years ago, seeing if I was looking for a job!

Obviously, I called back, and having spoken with the nice woman, the job seems well suited to my skill set. We'll see how this goes; though I am eager to remove myself from this current unfortunate employment situation, I am going to take my time in finding a new job. Having said that, making 20% more than I do now and working in the SEARS TOWER (!!!) makes me hot under the collar. Woot!

THANKS to all the earnest comments/suggestions/thoughts left on yesterday's post. I will take them all into consideration as I move forward. For now, I intend to enjoy the beer I "bought" with the $11 I found on the ground in front of my local 7-11. Free Beer! Happy Friday! Burp!

WARNING: AXE BODY SPRAY WILL NOT GET YOU LAID

OK, a "fatwa" needs to be issued against the individual roaming the halls of my office building wearing Axe Body Spray. First, it's not an air freshener. Second, it's not acceptable for anyone, especially those males no longer in junior high school to wear anywhere at anytime. Thirdly, it smells like fucking shit. The stench is lingering in the lobby, the elevator and the hallway and it's making my eyes, nose and throat burn.

My Internet research prowess has taught me the following; while the Americans get the lame fragrances our obviously highly evolved European counterparts get these tasty varieties of Axe: "Horny Juice" (this would be a huge hit in the South), "Anti-Hangover" (which is an incredulous example of false advertising), "Relapse" (Brit-Brit would like this one, Brandon Davis too), "Relapse" (Lindsey Lohan comes to mind) and finally, my personal favorite, "Marine".

Further research reveals the names of additional fragrance lines that never made it outside of the Unilever lab facilities:

"Repulsive"
"Chlamydia"
"Asphyxiate"
"Androgen"
"Spermicide"
"Accelerant"
"Turpentine"
"Methanol"
"Formaldehyde"
"Bromhidrosis"
"Halitosis"
"Sulfuric Acid"
"Mysophilia"
"Convulsive"

UPDATE: MAYDAY! MAYDAY! - I have found the source! After going outside to make a call (anything to spend time in the nice weather and get away from my desk) I smelled the stench again, and it was emanating from the teenage son of the building manager. Not sure what the proper course of action is in such a situation...other than gasping for air.