Oh. Well, the SDMB was blocked by my office’s server filters for a while, so I just recently discovered that I have access again. * evil chuckle * I’ve been outta the loop.
I’ll just fuck off then. 
That reminds me of a funny story:
I work in a very small office. There are only three other people there, one of whom is the boss. I have been trying to get a new job for a while, since they all drive me crazy, but the economy is always crappy here. The boss brings his dog to the office nearly every day, and she barks at most people who come in. He also, for some reason, takes the dog into the bathroom with him when he goes. All three of them constantly leave the bathroom door open after they’re done, so you can see that they’ve left the toilet seat up. (we only have the one bathroom) They carry on loud and unprofessional phone conversations with their office doors open, and often make clients wait in the office while they have perfectly audible personal conversations on the phone. They take really long lunches and often are late for afternoon appointments because they stayed late at lunch. They lose people’s information. The boss cut my hours and when I’m off, they rearrange my desk. When I come in after my long weekends, the first thing I do is go look for my stapler, pens, and so on, because they are never where I left them. They frequently mess up the copier in some way and expect me to fix it. After my hours were cut (I am bookkeeper and general office flunky), my co-worker had the temerity to complain that he would have to answer the phone more often since I was out.
In other words, going to work tends to annoy me.
I do this all the time. The story may be funny, and it may not be rambling (though often rambling), but it never has anything to do with what “reminded” me of it. People who know me have long stopped asking, “What does that have to do with anything?”
No jury would convict you.
Three cubes down from mine is the new-mommy-cube. We’ve had a baby boom here in recent years, so there are lots of new moms or moms-to-be. For some reason, they all congregate in Emily’s cube to natter away for hours. And, quite frankly, Emily is a flake. If my daughter ever does or says anything regarding my future grandchildren that mirrors Emily’s blathering, I’ll fwap my kid upside her head. I weep for the children of some of these twits.
And they’re loud. If I’m really intent on what I’m doing, I can block them out. But if I’m just thinking/planning/considering my next tasking, it’s really distracting. Criminy, people, you’re being paid to work. Please work. If you must chat, please go to the break room. Thank you.
Oh, dear Og…I was so sure my father-in-law was dead and safely buried. I’m so sorry that someone dug him up and he’s now working (or not working, sounds more like it) in your place of employment. I swear that man NEVER learned to communicate in anything softer than a bellow, suitable for carrying sound across half a mile or so. When he wasn’t talking, he was whistling or humming. Does your guy do that? If he does, then make sure that he’s not a zombie.
If he is a zombie, just take the appropriate anti-zombie precautions, and if you need an alibi, just let me know.
This was always one of my pet peeves at work. The women in my cubicle farm were always gathered around various cubicles talking. Or worse, they would sit in their cubicles and talk across the aisles at each other. At one point I asked to be moved to a new cubicle because I was between to women who would talk to each other over my cubicle, and couldn’t understand why this bothered me.
So have a male friend call her and let this be broadcast over her loud speakerphone:
“<brilliant woman name> darling, it’s me. Just had to let you know I can not – repeat NOT – meet you at lunchtime; my wife came home unexpectedly. So don’t come here! But meet me after work – I reserved the room in our usual motel. I can’t wait to see you – all of you – my darling.”
A couple of calls like that will get her to shut off her speakerphone!
P.S. This is especially effective on a day when she happens to mention to you that she has to leave work early today.
WHAT??? I’m just not getting this one. Please explain. Enquiring minds want to know.
Okay, explanation with two examples:
I’ll be standing at my coworker’s desk, talking about something or other. I’ll say something that (to me) ends the conversation, pause for a moment, and walk out of the room. For some reason, those clues don’t register, and he will continue talking as if I was still standing there. I’ll come back from the break room and he’ll still be chattering away.
He also won’t bother to verify I’m actually at my desk before starting in on some topic or other (our desks are separated by a 5’ partition). Sometimes I’ll come into the office to find him having a one-way discussion that has apparently been going on for several minutes.
Oh. Must make life interesting.
Dear Co-worker:
Yes, I have to share an office with you. No, it’s not my choice. My choice would be to do my job in a small, solitary office where I can close my door and have no contact with the outside world except for email. But alas, no.
Quit getting me in the middle of fights between you and another co-worker. She says something to you that you take completely out of context, then you don’t speak to her for two-three months. You have to work with her: you could at least be professional about it. But you have to say bad things about her to me. I don’t want to hear it.
Don’t sit there in the office and say, “Brr” because you’re cold. The office temperature is 72 degrees. The office thermostat is now under lock and key because you kept changing the temperature. I don’t have a key. Your litte “brrs” will do no good except to get me irritated. Bring a jacket and get over it.
And you sigh. Good God almighty, when you are asked to do anything that you don’t want to do, or you have to go do your relief job, you sigh. LOUDLY. I am so flipping tired of hearing it. These are things in your job description, and you’re getting paid to do them. So do them. Complaining to me will do you no good. I’m not management, and I have no pull. If I did, I’d have that office to myself.
If I have to discuss anything work related, I have to leave my own office and go somewhere else in the building. Why? Because you are a freaking blabbermouth! I have a job where certain things need to be kept confidential. You wouldn’t know the meaning of the word confidential if it came up and bit you in the ass.
My job also involves sitting at my desk with headphones. You have frequent visitors, and you guys talk so loudly that I cannot hear what I’m supposed to be doing. I’ve had to tell you to keep it down any number of times, but you just won’t listen.
And finally, and worst of all, you smell to high heaven. Oh, you’re clean and everything, but that perfume of yours can make the food in the break room curdle. Combine that with the tobacco scent, and you are impossible to deal with. I have to go outside for 15 minutes when you come in just so the smell dissipates a bit. I have resorted to a war: your perfume and tobacco versus my apple cinnamon. I put up not one, but two apple cinnamon scented fresheners on my desk. And I spray the room with Febreze before you come in for the day and before you come back from break and lunch. I win. And it smells better, too.
If you have to do an Office Gift Exchange for any reason, give her a pashmina. Not a good one, mind you, just go to Target and pick up a fleece one for about $15. Smile sweetly and tell her that she needs to keep it at her desk, since she gets so very cold.
I have no suggestions for your other problems with her, other than to get headphones that do a better job of blocking out ambient noise.
Good idea, Lynn. I shall look up said pashmina. As for the headphones, I already use some really good Sony noise-canceling headphones. She just makes too much noise. 
Co-workers who take half hour cigarette breaks a couple of times a shift and then bitch and moan about not having time to take a meal break.
It’s a “he,” so it can’t be my mother, her sister or their mother… I’ve asked my brothers to hit me with the nearest pillow the first time I do that and with a vase if the pillow doesn’t work - a heavy one.
“Were you talking to me? I’m asking because, you see, I happened to be in the terrace. Watering the plants, as you asked me to do, you know?”
In my office it’s the men who do this. And their conversational speaking voices are quite loud and carry a bit.
When I first started my current job a number of years ago, the guy in the cube 3 doors down hosted a Testosterone Klatch every single morning with three other guys. Sometimes the conversations were 10 minutes, sometimes they were a good 45. Topics were always some combination of the following:
[ul]
[li]who had ridden their motorcycles to work that day, and why, and how it was[/li][li]fishing/boating[/li][li]hunting/guns[/li][li]home improvement projects / power tools[/li][/ul]
I was surprised, but sports were rarely mentioned.
Ooh goody goody! I recently started a new job, and I’ve got a few for the list!
Coworker #1 - No, Ma’am. It is not all right with me in the least for you to leave me on a register so that you may shop. If you’re going to go to lunch, clock out (for only 30 minutes) and go. Don’t mosey over to the cooler, pick a snack, have me ring you up. Then also don’t wander around the store, buying up all the markdowns (the rest of us wanted a shot at those!) and have me ring you up again. And please don’t get hungry again, decide that NOW you can go to lunch, have me ring up your meal, and then clock out. Your hour long paid shopping breaks are not cool.
Coworker #2 - I met you yesterday. I learned your name today. Why do I also already know about your two boyfriends, how you play them against each other, how you see them both on the same day, how this one is good in bed but this one is a good provider, how one put his hands on you and the other pulled him off - etc. etc. etc. Seriously, the constant yammering about your love life is bordering on sexual harassment. Stop it.
Ex-coworker - You decided to quit with zero notice - guess who got to come in on her day off and cover for you? Now I will have overtime and I will be in trouble, not to mention that I do need some time off once in a while. You suck.
All coworkers - I am the head of photo. I DO know more about our system than you. Please for the love of Pete don’t. fuck. with. it. I can’t come into work without something having blown up, and it’s mostly because you people can’t be bothered to figure out what you’re doing. I have dummy-proofed the whole process! How can you possibly not understand how to click TWO buttons on a computer screen?
Ahh, phew.
This isn’t a cow-orker exactly, but:
There’s a guy at a church men’s meeting I attend who is just the designated space cadet. He’s an institution there, and it’s a very supportive group, so he mostly gets secret laughs and rolling eyes, but he tells jokes loudly that no one laughs at, has a stilted manner that says he’s not used to being around people much, and does things like getting up to make more coffee right when someone’s sharing something really personal. You know, he’s the coffee man, so if he thinks the coffee’s low, he has to clang things and run faucets no matter what’s going on, or whether there’s only 20 minutes left and no one cares about the coffee any more.
He also talks about people’s personal issues at “teacher addressing the class” volume in restaurants. He’s been shushed a few times, but it’s like he has no memory of it. Maybe his shame circuit is shorted.
He’s been there years, but still no one will ask him to mentor them no matter how many times he raises his hand as available. This pattern seems to escape him as he raises his hand for the100th time in 2 years. I asked my dad, “is it possible for someone to be socially retarded?” He sets up web sites and probably would test ok on an IQ test, but hanging around him for a few hours a week is about all I can take. I feel sorry for the guy, but it’s a definite drawback to going to that group.