There is an older guy here at work who open-mouthed coughs every few minutes, and-- I shit you not-- he sounds exactly like this:
Actually, he's even a little phlegmy-er. He's kind of wrinkly like Gollum too. His hack bleeds through my headphones and ruins my daily Hall & Oates jam sessions. It assaults me when I've taken a mouthful of delicious chicken fried rice and causes me to gag. Worst of all, it's chronic; I've been in this location since August and his cough hasn't abated one bit. It is the most disturbing, rattly cough I've ever heard from someone not dying of lung cancer.
...wait.
Showing posts with label office creepers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label office creepers. Show all posts
Friday, January 6, 2012
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Dosvedanya, Mio Co-worker
I just found out that a guy with whom I've worked for the past several years is being wooed by a Russian bride. HAHAHAHA!!
I knew this guy had a Russian girlfriend but I thought they met in like, grad school or something. I didn't realize they'd never met and had been talking on Skype for six months before deciding to take a two-week Mediterranean cruise together. I didn't understand why his mom was freaky about him going and why some other co-workers were so strangely worried for him. Sure, he's only 30 but seriously Mom-- let your baby grow up and take a big boy trip with his lady. He probably won't get her pregnant. Why would he come back without organs? What the hell are you people talking about? But now, NOW I get it. And when I found out this afternoon I laughed, and laughed, and laughed until I started to lose mascara down my cheeks. A Russian bride!
via funnyfreepics.blogspot.com
Then I kind of felt bad laughing because well, it's not funny. It's kind of sad. But it's really funny! But it's sad. This guy is a nice guy but I guess he must be lonely. He's super smart and not bad looking, kinda quiet and nerdy and the stereotypical gamer who devotes his weekends to exploring the Caves of Lament in Worlds of Warcraft (don't quote me on that, I've never played). Maybe that's why he's never met a satisfactory woman here in the city....HE NEVER WENT OUT. Or maybe he did and all the girls he met were vapid and intolerable. I don't know.
So in addition to this being the first time they met in person, I also found out that he paid for her portion of the cruise (although not her airfare from Russia) AND that they exchanged promise rings. SIX MONTHS. Oy vey. At least they're the same age. He comes back on Monday....I am sooo pumping him for more information.
On a similar note, two of my uncles have been notably obsessed with foreign brides. And I guess my dad too, but the internet wasn't invented back then so he actually went to the country and met and courted my mom 31 years ago. My uncles, however, were not so much into the old-fashioned stuff. Uncle C IMed and webcammed with numerous Asian brides before selecting one and flying to China "to teach English." Like we'd forgotten about all the babes he kept bragging about. He left a couple years ago and is still somewhere in Asia but isn't married or even seeing his chosen bride, nor is he teaching English. I actually have no idea what he's doing there or even if he's still alive.
Uncle M went through TWO brides before sustaining a marriage to the third. The first one divorced him immediately upon arriving in the US, only to be deported back to the Ukraine. Apparently the marriage has to be maintained for two years to avoid deportation, who knew? She was obviously a n00b. The second one (also Ukrainian) refused to consummate the marriage until my uncle brought her daughter into the country as well. They ran away into the night the day after the daughter arrived and I never heard anything else about them. The third woman said she had no interest in moving to the US and wanted my uncle to move to Poland. They actually have been married for something like eight or nine years and split their time between Poland and Connecticut. I only met her once, a tiny little wisp of a woman who totally eclipsed me in conversation about Medieval dialects and architecture.
Hey! Maybe that's what my co-worker wants-- MEDIEVAL CONVERSATIONS. Full circle.
I knew this guy had a Russian girlfriend but I thought they met in like, grad school or something. I didn't realize they'd never met and had been talking on Skype for six months before deciding to take a two-week Mediterranean cruise together. I didn't understand why his mom was freaky about him going and why some other co-workers were so strangely worried for him. Sure, he's only 30 but seriously Mom-- let your baby grow up and take a big boy trip with his lady. He probably won't get her pregnant. Why would he come back without organs? What the hell are you people talking about? But now, NOW I get it. And when I found out this afternoon I laughed, and laughed, and laughed until I started to lose mascara down my cheeks. A Russian bride!
Then I kind of felt bad laughing because well, it's not funny. It's kind of sad. But it's really funny! But it's sad. This guy is a nice guy but I guess he must be lonely. He's super smart and not bad looking, kinda quiet and nerdy and the stereotypical gamer who devotes his weekends to exploring the Caves of Lament in Worlds of Warcraft (don't quote me on that, I've never played). Maybe that's why he's never met a satisfactory woman here in the city....HE NEVER WENT OUT. Or maybe he did and all the girls he met were vapid and intolerable. I don't know.
So in addition to this being the first time they met in person, I also found out that he paid for her portion of the cruise (although not her airfare from Russia) AND that they exchanged promise rings. SIX MONTHS. Oy vey. At least they're the same age. He comes back on Monday....I am sooo pumping him for more information.
On a similar note, two of my uncles have been notably obsessed with foreign brides. And I guess my dad too, but the internet wasn't invented back then so he actually went to the country and met and courted my mom 31 years ago. My uncles, however, were not so much into the old-fashioned stuff. Uncle C IMed and webcammed with numerous Asian brides before selecting one and flying to China "to teach English." Like we'd forgotten about all the babes he kept bragging about. He left a couple years ago and is still somewhere in Asia but isn't married or even seeing his chosen bride, nor is he teaching English. I actually have no idea what he's doing there or even if he's still alive.
Uncle M went through TWO brides before sustaining a marriage to the third. The first one divorced him immediately upon arriving in the US, only to be deported back to the Ukraine. Apparently the marriage has to be maintained for two years to avoid deportation, who knew? She was obviously a n00b. The second one (also Ukrainian) refused to consummate the marriage until my uncle brought her daughter into the country as well. They ran away into the night the day after the daughter arrived and I never heard anything else about them. The third woman said she had no interest in moving to the US and wanted my uncle to move to Poland. They actually have been married for something like eight or nine years and split their time between Poland and Connecticut. I only met her once, a tiny little wisp of a woman who totally eclipsed me in conversation about Medieval dialects and architecture.
Hey! Maybe that's what my co-worker wants-- MEDIEVAL CONVERSATIONS. Full circle.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Plopping noises
Those of you who work in offices, do you ever notice the silent restroom stand-offs in which two or more people try to out-wait each other in the stalls, presumably so they can poop? I'm guessing that's what they want to do although I've never stuck around to find out. Eight years ago when I first started working in an office, I was introduced to this valuable and hilarious guide to taking a dump at work, and have even used the Astaire if I wasn't sure someone realized I was in there. But I never noticed stand-offs until I moved to this office and I think it's kind of funny. Not a bad idea either, in theory.
I mentioned this to the Hubs recently and he said the guys in his office put on no such airs. They're all out of the poopin' closet and stroll right into the restroom, newspapers in hand, and readily grunt away in their separate stalls. Then chat at the sink while washing their hands as if they hadn't just heard each other forcefully expelling waste from their no-no holes. I find this to be a little weird, albeit significantly less inconvenient. (Personally, I'm a fly-byer-- I scout the restroom until I'm sure it's empty, then scat and scoot. Ninja skillz.) It must just be women who feel awkward about those plopping noises. I used to go to a safe restroom in the bowels of our building (hardy har har) because hardly anyone went there, but then someone called it the murder bathroom because it's isolated from everything and right next to an exit, plus it did look like those creepy tile bathrooms in the movies with dark, mysterious stains everywhere.....aaaaannnnd I never went into it again.
Yesterday, I walked into the restroom as a lady was walking out and I could tell someone else was in a stall-- a pregnant silence, one stall door shut, barely perceptible camo cough. Unfortunately for her, I was in a particularly complicated outfit involving belts, buttons, straps and tiny snaps in a regrettable location (in other news, do avoid the horrendously uncomfortable Victoria's Secret bodysuit, aka glorified onesie; soft parts beware), and by the time I was finished with my business, yet another patron had entered, done what appeared to be only part of her own business and was ALSO silently waiting for me to leave. Um. Have fun with that, girls. Thank goodness I didn't have to go too. I wonder who would've let it fly first? Hmm, future social experiment? I could slip newspapers under the stalls.
I mentioned this to the Hubs recently and he said the guys in his office put on no such airs. They're all out of the poopin' closet and stroll right into the restroom, newspapers in hand, and readily grunt away in their separate stalls. Then chat at the sink while washing their hands as if they hadn't just heard each other forcefully expelling waste from their no-no holes. I find this to be a little weird, albeit significantly less inconvenient. (Personally, I'm a fly-byer-- I scout the restroom until I'm sure it's empty, then scat and scoot. Ninja skillz.) It must just be women who feel awkward about those plopping noises. I used to go to a safe restroom in the bowels of our building (hardy har har) because hardly anyone went there, but then someone called it the murder bathroom because it's isolated from everything and right next to an exit, plus it did look like those creepy tile bathrooms in the movies with dark, mysterious stains everywhere.....aaaaannnnd I never went into it again.
Yesterday, I walked into the restroom as a lady was walking out and I could tell someone else was in a stall-- a pregnant silence, one stall door shut, barely perceptible camo cough. Unfortunately for her, I was in a particularly complicated outfit involving belts, buttons, straps and tiny snaps in a regrettable location (in other news, do avoid the horrendously uncomfortable Victoria's Secret bodysuit, aka glorified onesie; soft parts beware), and by the time I was finished with my business, yet another patron had entered, done what appeared to be only part of her own business and was ALSO silently waiting for me to leave. Um. Have fun with that, girls. Thank goodness I didn't have to go too. I wonder who would've let it fly first? Hmm, future social experiment? I could slip newspapers under the stalls.
Friday, November 18, 2011
Turn that shit off!
There is a woman near me at work who leaves the ringer on her phone on, and it is constantly ringing during the day. I have no idea what she looks like since she's a row over from me and I can't be bothered to get up to look (not that I could see over the cube wall anyway), but I've heard her name for the past eight years so I know she's been around the block. But that's beside the point. The point is, she leaves her fucking ringer on, and the ringtone just happens to be this song:
I hate it. I have to hear this at least five times a day since it penetrates THROUGH my earbuds, and I HATE THAT RINGTONE MORE THAN ANYTHING IN LIFE!
On an up note (pun so intended), their faces all look like they're having great orgasms.
I hate it. I have to hear this at least five times a day since it penetrates THROUGH my earbuds, and I HATE THAT RINGTONE MORE THAN ANYTHING IN LIFE!
On an up note (pun so intended), their faces all look like they're having great orgasms.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Mister Beer Keg
Today's tall tale comes to you courtesy of office creepers. There will be at least one more of these, but this guy's tale of grossness will be enough for one day.
When I first started at my job, I worked on a phone team. I was a temp and didn't really ever plan to stay, but I grew to like the characters on my team so much (and the pay was GREAT) that I just kept hangin out. One person on my team with whom I was not really friends was Mister Beer Keg (MBK), so-named because he chose that for his Yahoo! chat screen name (which he shared with me along with a host of other undesirable information) and also because he resembled a beer keg. Which may be why he chose it along with the fact that he loved beer. He was hugely overweight, sarcastic, unpleasant and generally downcast. I didn't have any interest in him for these reasons and ALSO because he was an ogler and extremely obvious about it-- like, did not EVER, AT ALL, disguise that he was ogling a woman. He would flagrantly stare at every part of your body under clothes, and he would do this both while talking and while listening to you talk. Rarely made eye contact. It was really unnerving and shifty and I started to hate being around him. At some point the team went out for beers one night and you know how sometimes there is a lull in talking to people you actually like and that provides the perfect opportunity for a less-than-savory character to swoop in and monopolize your time? Yeah, that happened with MBK. It was discovered during this time monopolization that we shared a mutual love of Guinness. And that is the one and only thing I think we ever had in common. It was the birth of a beautiful friendship. *sarcasm font*
So, I am way too fucking nice. Or was, anyway. When I moved to a new team, MBK began IMing me now and again to chat. And because I like to slack (hello, blogging at work) and because I at least didn't have to talk to him face-to-face, I chatted. Whatever. I didn't care. We sort of became friends, except for the part where I didn't really like him because he was a jerk to people and lazy to boot, OH AND HE OGLED, and so I made it a rule with myself that I never initiated the chatting. I would just answer his chats. Pretty soon he started telling me about the problems in his marriage, and I thought maybe that explained his general attitude, so I gave advice if I thought it would be helpful, and sometimes he followed it. Mostly not.
So, I am way too fucking nice. Or was, anyway. When I moved to a new team, MBK began IMing me now and again to chat. And because I like to slack (hello, blogging at work) and because I at least didn't have to talk to him face-to-face, I chatted. Whatever. I didn't care. We sort of became friends, except for the part where I didn't really like him because he was a jerk to people and lazy to boot, OH AND HE OGLED, and so I made it a rule with myself that I never initiated the chatting. I would just answer his chats. Pretty soon he started telling me about the problems in his marriage, and I thought maybe that explained his general attitude, so I gave advice if I thought it would be helpful, and sometimes he followed it. Mostly not.
And then one day...THEN! He started telling me, in chat, at work, about their problems in the bedroom. IN DETAIL. Here are some examples:
"Isn't the point of being a wife to let her husband finger her hot hole?"
"I exfoliated my balls just for that night and the woman didn't even have the decency to lick them."
"Then after the bitch got me hard and ready she said she didn't want to get pregnant and made me jerk off by myself and sleep on the couch."
"I was hoping she'd get drunk at the wedding and pass out so I could bang her in peace, but she refused to drink anything."
AT WORK!!!!
I was thoroughly disgusted and tried to deflect the comments and talk about other things, but he would always bring it up. I started to avoid answering his chats specifically so I could avoid his bedroom talk. And because I was a freaking PANSY, I had such a hard time confronting people or saying anything that might hurt their feelings, even at a cost to myself. Even if I didn't like them. I've gotten much better but before, oh, it was bad for awhile. There was more than one person I barely knew dumping personal shit on me at that time, and I was so pathetic. How fucking hard can it be to say "Don't talk to me about this at work. Or ever." ??? One day I raged on MBK about someone else who was telling me detailed crap I had no interest in hearing (hoping he'd get the message-- he didn't), and he told me it was because I was approachable and kind, and I really listened and cared, and it showed. BAH! HA! HA!
Once in a great while, we went to lunch. I tried super hard to avoid it since I hated the way he looked at me, but it did happen once or three times because we were in the same building. One day we were mercifully finishing up and he blurted out that he was pretty sure he hated his wife and that for the first time, he really, truly wanted to cheat on her with someone else. Then before I could say anything, he flushed a deep, flaming red and said his ideal person was someone at work to whom he talked frequently. Oh, swoon, right? I babbled something along the lines of "Don't cheat, that's not cool, look at the time, gotta go." And I never had lunch with him again.
So this IM thing went on for nearly a year-- I remember that because my team got a new manager, and on his third day on the job, I flew into his cubicle and begged him to discreetly help me with this problem. Because that morning, the moment I logged into my work computer, MBK IMed me with this:
"So I got her to do it last night and I know she got off bc there was a huge wet spot on the bed."
IT WASN'T EVEN 8 O'CLOCK YET. Not that it's ever appropriate to say such a thing at work, as we have already discussed, but to start so early in the morning? For SERIOUS?! It was finally more than I could handle.
So my new manager helped me stop it. I knew this was a fireable offense, especially if I divulged how long it had been going on, and I didn't want that to happen-- MBK's wife was a bum and had no job, and they had a new baby, and I knew his paycheck was the only one coming into that household. I told Manager such. And he....he fibbed for me. I felt really awful about it, but he said if I didn't want the guy fired, it was probably the only way to go about it. He told MBK's manager that he had intercepted that morning's chat and I confessed that it made me really uncomfortable but that I was afraid to say so (truth) and that I tried to avoid talking to him at every opportunity. That manager gave MBK a verbal warning that he would be monitoring his chats from then on. And I assume there was more to the warning, given the content of his disgusting message, but I never bothered to find out.
Once in a great while, we went to lunch. I tried super hard to avoid it since I hated the way he looked at me, but it did happen once or three times because we were in the same building. One day we were mercifully finishing up and he blurted out that he was pretty sure he hated his wife and that for the first time, he really, truly wanted to cheat on her with someone else. Then before I could say anything, he flushed a deep, flaming red and said his ideal person was someone at work to whom he talked frequently. Oh, swoon, right? I babbled something along the lines of "Don't cheat, that's not cool, look at the time, gotta go." And I never had lunch with him again.
So this IM thing went on for nearly a year-- I remember that because my team got a new manager, and on his third day on the job, I flew into his cubicle and begged him to discreetly help me with this problem. Because that morning, the moment I logged into my work computer, MBK IMed me with this:
"So I got her to do it last night and I know she got off bc there was a huge wet spot on the bed."
IT WASN'T EVEN 8 O'CLOCK YET. Not that it's ever appropriate to say such a thing at work, as we have already discussed, but to start so early in the morning? For SERIOUS?! It was finally more than I could handle.
So my new manager helped me stop it. I knew this was a fireable offense, especially if I divulged how long it had been going on, and I didn't want that to happen-- MBK's wife was a bum and had no job, and they had a new baby, and I knew his paycheck was the only one coming into that household. I told Manager such. And he....he fibbed for me. I felt really awful about it, but he said if I didn't want the guy fired, it was probably the only way to go about it. He told MBK's manager that he had intercepted that morning's chat and I confessed that it made me really uncomfortable but that I was afraid to say so (truth) and that I tried to avoid talking to him at every opportunity. That manager gave MBK a verbal warning that he would be monitoring his chats from then on. And I assume there was more to the warning, given the content of his disgusting message, but I never bothered to find out.
MBK also still chatted me now and again, but since he couldn't talk to me about his marital or bedroom problems, there was nothing to chat about. He got laid off last month and I know I should feel sorry for that, but all I can muster is a deep sense of relief that he will never be chatting with me again. I don't give a crap about anything in his life, and I'm pretty sure he only pretended to care about mine so he could eventually (somehow? did he seriously ever think this would be a consideration?) lie on me with his huge beer-keg-shaped stomach.
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