When stopping by to bring me an enormous festering pile of work, do not announce cheerily in a sing-song voice, "I’ve got a little PRESENT for you-uuu."
It leads to a powerful urge to plant one’s foot at high speed between the departing buttocks of the offender. Which would be antisocial and entirely wrong.
And while we are at it, there is remarkably little justification for hovering at my door and loudly declaring “KNOCK-KNOCK!!!”.
Either physically knock on the door, or say “Excuse me?” or somesuch.
Submitted for your consideration: the “Are we having fun yet?” guy.
If I am actually having fun (I do enjoy many elements of my job) the question throws me for a loop, and I find myself awkwardly answering, “Um, yes? I mean, I am . . . Are you?”
If I’m not having fun, what exactly am I supposed to say? “Not really?” “Not yet?” “Fuck, no?” Is this supposed to cheer me up or something? And, thanks, by the way, for disrupting my train of thought and delaying the completion of my not-fun task.
We also have the Fearless Weather Prognosticator, who shows up like clockwork every Thursday or Friday to announce his conviction that it will pour rain all weekend.
Yeah, I can’t stand that kind of crap. The one that really rubs me the wrong way (after having had it used on me a few times) is “I’d like you to *take ownership * of …” Er, I’m effing well having ownership imposed on me, so let’s not dress it up as anything otherwise, right?
Here’s mine, if my office door is shut, there’s a reason for it. Do NOT knock on my door once and proceed to enter. Wait till I tell you to come the fuck in or you can guess there’s a meeting or a phone call going on–or even god forbid a control-top pantyhose readjustment.
If you go ahead and just open my door and come in, see I am on the phone, do NOT stand in front of my desk until I get off the phone. If I would have wanted you to be present for the phone call I would have invited you in prior to answering/making it. And by all means, don’t get offended if I point to the door while I am on a very important/sensitive phone call, yopu open my door, walk in and I point towards the door.
All this should be disregareded if this is my boss
Ah, good, a cow-orker thread so I don’t have to make one of my own! I mostly just want my cow-orkers to shut the fuck up and leave me the fuck alone. I just want to do my work, and go back home again. I have friends. They don’t work here. That’s all. Thank you.
And let me add to that a hearty, “I don’t give a fuck what you or your kid, or your neice, nephew, cousin, brother, sister, neighbor or anyone else you may know or have seen did or might have done. If I wanted to know, I’d have fucking well asked, right? Since I didn’t fucking ask, odds are I don’t give a fuck, not ‘it skipped my mind that you may have some earth-shatteringly important nugget of ass-headedness to pass on’. And let me also say that asking me about my wife and kids every day is not being friendly, it’s being fucking noisy, bitch. If the wife and/or kids wanted you to know something, they’d have said, 'Oh, while you’re at work, tell Jane <insert data here>. They didn’t say that, so I don’t believe they feel any deep-seated desire to keep you informed of their every thought and motion.”
One of these days, when I’m asked what I did today, I’m going to answer, “The same thing I do every day: I minded my own business.”
If one of the people I am forced to spend time with to garner my pathetic paycheck come up to me and say anything that starts with the words “guess what” or words to that effect, odds are that I really don’t care.
The that really ruffle my kidney stones is the fake-carer. They pass you in the hallway and say “Hey Frank*, how are ya?” Do they stop to actually talk to you? Do they even listen to my reply of “lousy, I have a brain cloud”? NO! They just keep on walking by like I wasn’t even there. Dammit, if you didn’t want to talk to me why on Bhudda’s techni-color Earth did you ask me a question? Oh sure, talking may make you look social, but by not listening to me you look like an insensitive clod.
*Frank may not be your name, but it’s my name and I’m telling the story so
Even if they want to tell you that they saved a shitload of money on their car insurance by switching to Geico?
Seriously, though, the ones who really drive my blood pressure to unhealthy levels and test my abilities to resist the urge to punch them straight in the teeth are the numbnuts who think I’m in a bad mood-- and sometimes I am, but that’s my own fucking business, not theirs-- and then tell me to smile (as if this sort of thing actually improves my mood! :rolleyes: ) . Good holy fuck! Give me a break! Yeah, a forced fake smile is really going to make all the difference in the world (it makes me look like even more of an idiot than the molecule-brain who’s telling me to smile). Besides, It’s not as if we’re all expected to walk around smiling all day long. Actually, anyone who is smiling for no apparent reason is probably thinking something I’d rather not know the details of.
aaaaaaaaah, I have come Home. NinjaPizzaGuy, I want to have 10,000 of your babies.
I feel so much better knowing I’m not some icy cold bitch just because I could give a fig about every one of my cow-orkers. AND just because I’m not conversing with you as if you were a 4 year old with a nasty scrape on your knee, doesnt mean I’m “testy” or in a bad mood! You’re 45! If normal conversational tone equals “testy” to you - you need HELP!
OH, and the other one: When youre a Sales Dope bringing potential clients through the office, don’t introduce me, the Admin Assistant, as “The Boss” It’s not funny. It’s. Not. Funny.
If work is getting you down, I recommend the workingfortheman website. It just so happens that the current featured article was written by me, and there’s a lot of great stuff in the archives.
Yes! I thought I was the only one! Seriously! I get to choose my friends, and I don’t get to choose you fucks. Haven’t you figured out, after 5 years, that I don’t give a damn about your personal life?
How about these people who are always hitting you up for money for a birthday gift for so-and-so, or a baby shower gift, or whatever. And then they don’t treat people equally, so only the popular women get the baby showers, etc. Man, do we need to fuck around with this shit at work? I don’t care if it’s your birthday and I don’t care if you’re having a baby! I just work here!
Wait, do we mean doing this repeatedly as a joke, or to say “My hands are full, and I want to come in, but need first to know if this a convenient time for you”?
