The Office
For those few who have noticed, yes this is the first post that I have made to the blog in sometime. For those of you for which nothing passes by, yes this would be considered my first real post. I am not really sure I believe in “your” existence, but “you“ may be out there and thanks for noticing.
I know that we all feel that our offices are all ripped straight from cubicled (not really a word) halls of Dilbert. To some extent that is true. We all have our lovable weirdo that lives in a corner and hugs his red stapler. “You” may even be that person and I say who cares as long you don’t own fire arms.
This is hopefully the first in a long series of essays about the wild life that I have and currently work with. I also hope for a book deal and possibly movie rights, but that is up to “you”. (Once again let say how thrilled I am that “you” came and that I am coming to terms with your possible existence). So let’s talk about my unique set of staple jockeys.
I have been at my current job for some time. Long enough to start playing the party politic in fact, but that is a later story. I have observed my co-workers closely and I have to say they are most unique, only a mother could love ‘em bunch I have worked with and they have a disgusting habit. They talk on their cellphones while in the restroom. I am not just talking about while standing around the sink or on the way out the door. We are talking full on, in the stall, with strains of pain and all.
So tell me those of “you” (I really don’t believe these people exist, because everybody who reads my blog has better manners) that participate in this practice, what the f$#k is so important that it couldn’t wait?? Some of “you” are talking to your family. Couldn’t get your wife to call ya back? What are you thinking? I am pretty sure your mama didn’t raise you in a barn. (I don’t in fact know your mama, but if I did don’t think I wouldn’t tell). And then there is the noise. A “Full House” sounds like a cross between a whopee cushion, a sex parlor and a water works. Surely “you” don’t think none of that gets across or does the fact that you are ignoring it make it go away for everyone.
One last point and I will put this rant to bed. You may have your nice college education and cozy desk job, but when it comes down to it all of that is wasted. Why? Because, you have no manners. Let me put it this way and maybe you’ll listen. It is this kind of behavior that blurs the line between the red necks and the yuppies, proving we are all trailer trash after all.