Well, as I have been so slack in blogging lately, it will come as news to most of you that I was hired on as a permanent full-time employee on September 1st.
And things have only gotten weirder.
To begin with, Two Clowns isn't talking to me because I gave her some attitude last week. We--the billers--were all in the board room discussing some issues pertinent to the execution of our duties when Two Clowns busted in to announce, "The sausage and beef jerky guy is here."
The sausage and beef jerky guy is this old Ukrainian fella who stops by the office every three weeks or so to take our orders for various nitrate-laden flesh products. Usually, his visits are avidly anticipated, but we were all in the midst of actually discussing some important issues (see below), and Two Clowns's interuption was initially met with a confused and profound silence.
"Oh," I said, at last, "that must be very exciting for you."
The room--including Springsteen--erupted into laughter, which Two Clowns did not appreciate. She narrowed her eyes and said coldly, "Watch it."
"Does it do tricks?" I replied, at which point she stormed from the room and told the sausage and beef jerky guy to return in an hour or so.
She hasn't spoken to me since, which is fucking awesome. I wish I'd thought of being rude sooner. I should, perhaps, take the advice of my readers more to heart, as I believe rudeness was advocated at least once or twice.
Anyway, we are facing a potential calamity at the office, and by "we" I mean me specifically, but possibly the billing department in general. It all depends on what the company decides to do. Springsteen announced at the meeting that she will shortly be taking another position in the company, so while she will still work at our branch, she will no longer be our Boss. And while I'm happy for her and hope she does well, because I have an excellent relationship with Springsteen and am genuinely fond of her, what terrifies me is the fact that her replacement might very well be
Teeth.
Nothing is official, but she was being groomed for Springsteen's job before Springsteen got it and she's been walking around the office for the past week looking like the cat that swallowed the canary. It's a cat with really huge teeth, mind you--in the immortal words of Greg Giraldo, "(S)he's got a mouth full of two-by-fours. Everytime she smiles, I'm reminded I need to refinish my deck."
Anyway, nothing has been announced officially, but that's the latest tension. I harbour a small but determined hope that the company will recognize how disastrous Teeth would be in a position of authority, and will pass her over again.
So, given that at least three of us (Yvette, Princess Anne and myself) will seriously consider leaving should Teeth take the braces of power in the office, the hilarity that crossed my desk today was much appreciated, if completely incomprehensible.
It's incomprehensible in the sense that I simply cannot understand how or why people consistently complicate their lives and put themselves into compromsing situations, when it is significantly easier NOT to.
Today, I learned through Yvette (who is, despite her earlier remarks on the death of Osama bin Laden, one of the more functional personalities in the office) that Sylvester has been up to certain, inexplicable hijinks. I knew from Sylvester herself that her long-time partner is an adult baby, a particular fetish that I cannot claim to understand myself. Most of us successfully make the adjustment away from soothers and diapers. And even if we retain a whimsical longing for the carefree days of infancy when all of our needs were seen to by doting and adoring parents (if we were lucky), we still don't find it sexy to shit our pants.
Sylvester herself doesn't get off on the adult baby stuff, which might be why she approached one of the new dispatchers with an offer to be "a co-worker with benefits".
Now first off, I realize that it might seem convenient to approach someone at work with such an offer because we're all thrown into a common place for several hours a week, but by the same token, think it through: we're all thrown into a common place for several hours a week! If things go south (as they invariably do), AWKWARD doesn't begin to describe the atmosphere.
Yet, having been politely but firmly declined, retain a hold on your dignity: thank the man/woman/office machine for their courtesy and walk the hell away. It is not necessary to half-assed explain your advances with a description of your live-in partner's infantile activities involving sleepers, rattles and diapers.
But even if you think that IS necessary somehow (perhaps in a ploy for sympathy), I can guarantee that it is wholly damaging to your reputation in the office to explain to ANYONE that you have a porn site they can visit if they change their minds or are even remotely curious.
*insert the sound of a needle scratching across a record here*
"Waitaminnut, waitaminnut," I said to Yvette. "Porn site? What do you mean a porn site? You mean where she posts a list of her favourite turn ons and kinks, or..."
"No,"said Yvette, "where she demonstrates them!"
And thus was my mind blown, gentle readers, because except for a very select niche market, I'm relatively certain that NO-ONE is interested in watching a five-foot-one, three hundred pound woman built like a mailbox speaking in a lisp like Sylvester the Cat do ANYTHING remotely sexual. Most of us look away squeamishly when she peels her banana at break; I can't imagine anyone getting off on watching her...gah, I can't/won't go there.
But if that is your thing, that's perfectly fine (in private): but that information probably shouldn't be making the rounds at work, and if you thought it wouldn't get out, then you're even more naive than I am regarding Teeth and her chances for promotion.
What.
The fuck.
And things have only gotten weirder.
To begin with, Two Clowns isn't talking to me because I gave her some attitude last week. We--the billers--were all in the board room discussing some issues pertinent to the execution of our duties when Two Clowns busted in to announce, "The sausage and beef jerky guy is here."
The sausage and beef jerky guy is this old Ukrainian fella who stops by the office every three weeks or so to take our orders for various nitrate-laden flesh products. Usually, his visits are avidly anticipated, but we were all in the midst of actually discussing some important issues (see below), and Two Clowns's interuption was initially met with a confused and profound silence.
"Oh," I said, at last, "that must be very exciting for you."
The room--including Springsteen--erupted into laughter, which Two Clowns did not appreciate. She narrowed her eyes and said coldly, "Watch it."
"Does it do tricks?" I replied, at which point she stormed from the room and told the sausage and beef jerky guy to return in an hour or so.
She hasn't spoken to me since, which is fucking awesome. I wish I'd thought of being rude sooner. I should, perhaps, take the advice of my readers more to heart, as I believe rudeness was advocated at least once or twice.
Anyway, we are facing a potential calamity at the office, and by "we" I mean me specifically, but possibly the billing department in general. It all depends on what the company decides to do. Springsteen announced at the meeting that she will shortly be taking another position in the company, so while she will still work at our branch, she will no longer be our Boss. And while I'm happy for her and hope she does well, because I have an excellent relationship with Springsteen and am genuinely fond of her, what terrifies me is the fact that her replacement might very well be
Teeth.
Nothing is official, but she was being groomed for Springsteen's job before Springsteen got it and she's been walking around the office for the past week looking like the cat that swallowed the canary. It's a cat with really huge teeth, mind you--in the immortal words of Greg Giraldo, "(S)he's got a mouth full of two-by-fours. Everytime she smiles, I'm reminded I need to refinish my deck."
Anyway, nothing has been announced officially, but that's the latest tension. I harbour a small but determined hope that the company will recognize how disastrous Teeth would be in a position of authority, and will pass her over again.
So, given that at least three of us (Yvette, Princess Anne and myself) will seriously consider leaving should Teeth take the braces of power in the office, the hilarity that crossed my desk today was much appreciated, if completely incomprehensible.
It's incomprehensible in the sense that I simply cannot understand how or why people consistently complicate their lives and put themselves into compromsing situations, when it is significantly easier NOT to.
Today, I learned through Yvette (who is, despite her earlier remarks on the death of Osama bin Laden, one of the more functional personalities in the office) that Sylvester has been up to certain, inexplicable hijinks. I knew from Sylvester herself that her long-time partner is an adult baby, a particular fetish that I cannot claim to understand myself. Most of us successfully make the adjustment away from soothers and diapers. And even if we retain a whimsical longing for the carefree days of infancy when all of our needs were seen to by doting and adoring parents (if we were lucky), we still don't find it sexy to shit our pants.
Sylvester herself doesn't get off on the adult baby stuff, which might be why she approached one of the new dispatchers with an offer to be "a co-worker with benefits".
Now first off, I realize that it might seem convenient to approach someone at work with such an offer because we're all thrown into a common place for several hours a week, but by the same token, think it through: we're all thrown into a common place for several hours a week! If things go south (as they invariably do), AWKWARD doesn't begin to describe the atmosphere.
Yet, having been politely but firmly declined, retain a hold on your dignity: thank the man/woman/office machine for their courtesy and walk the hell away. It is not necessary to half-assed explain your advances with a description of your live-in partner's infantile activities involving sleepers, rattles and diapers.
But even if you think that IS necessary somehow (perhaps in a ploy for sympathy), I can guarantee that it is wholly damaging to your reputation in the office to explain to ANYONE that you have a porn site they can visit if they change their minds or are even remotely curious.
*insert the sound of a needle scratching across a record here*
"Waitaminnut, waitaminnut," I said to Yvette. "Porn site? What do you mean a porn site? You mean where she posts a list of her favourite turn ons and kinks, or..."
"No,"said Yvette, "where she demonstrates them!"
And thus was my mind blown, gentle readers, because except for a very select niche market, I'm relatively certain that NO-ONE is interested in watching a five-foot-one, three hundred pound woman built like a mailbox speaking in a lisp like Sylvester the Cat do ANYTHING remotely sexual. Most of us look away squeamishly when she peels her banana at break; I can't imagine anyone getting off on watching her...gah, I can't/won't go there.
But if that is your thing, that's perfectly fine (in private): but that information probably shouldn't be making the rounds at work, and if you thought it wouldn't get out, then you're even more naive than I am regarding Teeth and her chances for promotion.
What.
The fuck.
8 comments:
I wish you all the best of luck with this. It sounds hair-raising to me, in the old-fashioned cartoon sort of way.
Otoh, you might be surprised to learn that even the apparently mild craft of handknitting attracts some interesting people. Currently we have a young mum who seems to have an issue with exposing herself (that is, she DOES and trust me - though she is not uncomely, it's *totally* inappropriate for a knitting circle) and another attractive young woman who announced at her first Knit Night that she was an 'international bondage model' and gave out her website to a select few (who really didn't want it).
Oversharing, people - fight the urge!
O_O
*facepalm*
DAMN I love your stories. ...Or maybe its how you tell em. Either way.holy WOW, I am sooo blessed with my workplace.
I consider myself pretty open minded, given that whatever freely consenting adults (of legal age and all) get up to for their own amusement in the privacy of their home is their own damn business. And none of ours, and never the two shall meet. Please.
Even if it's the minimum activities involved in creating a child I don't really want to know that about my colleagues. That someone got pregnant afterward is fine, though we will all figure it out soon enough. I suppose there are various people who need to know to make staffing plans and file paperwork and all that. But anything beyond that is TMI, and the adult baby thing is WFTMI. (I'm sure you can figure it out.)
And why at work, of all places?? My office roomie says the most valuable thing she ever learned in 4 years of university was that "People are stupid, the exceptions are as rare as unicorns". I knew this a long time ago, and don't need to be reminded. Clearly some of the people in your office don't know that yet.
If Teeth has in fact been told the job is hers, the rest of you would have known by now. People like that can't keep secrets.
Wow I am going to have to tip toe throughout the Internet more carefully so I don't cross that gem and gouge out my eyes. As for teeth. I agree that if she got the promotion you all would have heard about it by now. What happens if she gets passed over again?
ZOMG YES YES YES, BESS IS CORRECT!!! There are some crazies at local sit and knits. Whereas I don't see anything inherently wrong with ribald and healthy discussions about sex and life and WTF type stuff (presuming the group itself is open to that type of stuff), I just think it's hilarious when folks are so incredibly forthcoming about BDSM as a love/life style. And given how easily one can obtain a simple blog, nothing is stopping any ol' garden variety crazy from entree to the wonderful www.
Tho, to be honest, my knit night discussions usually involve some level of WTF or TMI but hilariously so, ranging from my husband's vehement problems he's got with me freezing my Danon Light and Fit yogurt (WTF!!!) or his problems with my pubic hair. Srsly.
Anne, I have to say that my life is so much more enriched for having read this particular blog post, and for reading that Giraldo quote. Hilarious.
I really have to thank you for this, as I thought my current work situation was intolerable and horrific...at least I'm not Sylvester! Although I am going to proposition a vending machine later...
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