Showing posts with label thanks for queefing this because i didn't have time to write today. Show all posts
Showing posts with label thanks for queefing this because i didn't have time to write today. Show all posts

1.13.2010

The 5 Co-Workers You'll Meet in Hell

Jesus Lord Almighty, I'm going to vent to you all for a second. I know last time I complained about the nerds I work with, I started some serious in-fighting about the proper and ethical treatment of nerds. But this has nothing to do with the fact that these people are nerds, it's just that they are horrible human beings. Horrible! Of the 20 people I work with, there are about 4 or 5 who I try my best to avoid whenever possible, simply because they are miserable creatures who I'm convinced dwell only in dark, musty corners of buildings.

Where was I? Oh right, so what set me off today is The Guy Who Cannot Complete His Thoughts. I'm helping him to submit some of the forms he needs to submit for his grant. I use the term help loosely, though, because he comes to me, asking for help, and suddenly I'm doing nearly everything for this to get submitted on time. I'll be rull honest with you, I would love to slack off between the hours of nine and five, and do nothing more than read blogs and Gchat all day. Is submitting these forms part of my job description? Yes. Would I complain about it at any other time? Probably. But The Guy Who Cannot Complete His Thoughts is aggravating because he will sporadically come into my office to discuss these forms with me. And then he'll leave. And then he'll come back to say just one more thing. And then he'll leave. And then he'll be back to say just onnnnne more thing. And then he'll leave. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. If what he had to say was something I needed to know, I could tolerate this. But normally, he's just reading the instructions for me. Sir, I'm pretty sure that when I got my elementary school diploma, I was also awarded the ability to read things on my own. If I need your help with something, I know where to find you. You'll be hovering around my office, remembering something else you desperately need to say.

He's not that bad though. He is at least being proactive about the work he needs to get done. I can respect that. If there's one person I physically cringe when thinking about approaching with a question it would be The Girl Who Is Never At Fault. Every single time I get a note with her name on it, I put it at the farthest reaches of my desk, so I don't have to think about it right away. I don't think I can properly express how much of a pain it is to work with this person. Because every time I've ever dealt with her, there's some problem that isn't her fault. For instance, she came into my office once to tell me the keyboard in the lab was "broken" and if we had an extra keyboard to use. After thirty minutes of me trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with the keyboard, it turns out she spilled a cup of coffee on it. UM THANKS, maybe next time you feed the computer a half-caf latte, let me know before I call India to get tech help. That's a very specialized example. Generally, if I ever need anything from her, I know that my question will be met with the same "I don't know what you're talking about, you must be crazy to think I can help you" stare. I could ask her for a piece of paper and she would say "Oh, I don't know what paper is. I can't help you, sorry." Super frustrating when I have a specific file that the boss said you personally would have. Trust me, if I could get it without your help, I would GLADLY do just that. In fact, I wish I could do that, because to be frank, you smell like curry and bad cheese. It's called Speed Stick. It's not expensive.

If my job requires it (which thankfully) it doesn't, I'll venture out of my office to deal with these people. But God forbid I run into The Guy Who Has All The Answers and Needs to Share Them. Any and every time I'm asking someone a question within his earshot, he just has to chime in with his all-important answer. As long as it's even peripherally related to him or his work, he has an opinion that I need to hear. "Did someone say my name?" No, I'm pretty sure I've never "Dickwad" in the office before, as that's unprofessional, and I'm nothing if not the textbook definition of a professional.

Unfortunately, however, being in my office does not prevent Them from bothering me. I don't close my office door (because the lack of white noise in my office when the door is shut is like Poltergeist-level unsettling), but even if I did, it wouldn't stop Them. Though it would give me a heads up when The Guy Who Doesn't Believe in Introductions busts into my office with a question. Due to the unfortunate layout of my office, my desk is against the far wall, and my back faces the door. On more than one occasion, without a "Hello" or "Can I bother you for a second?", The Guy Who Doesn't Believe in Introductions will start talking, literally inches from my ear. Not only is it terrifying (the number of times I've shit my pants is just embarrassing at this point), but there's also no segue. He just dives headfirst into his question. Haven't you ever heard of foreplay? Can you tantalize me a little bit with an anecdote before we get right to the penetrating questions? (See what I did there?) You can't just walk up to someone with their back turned and then shoot a question at them. What if I carried mace? You would get your question answered with an eye full of hurt.

I'll take him anyday of The Girl With Oddly Specific Requests. Mainly because she is also The Girl Who Is Never At Fault. When I need something from her, it's an outrageous request and usually ends in her suggesting I see a psychiatrist. But if she needs something from me, that's an entiiiiiiiirely different story. And I always know, before she even opens her mouth, when she needs something from me. Because she'll ask me in this meek little sing-song "I'm trying to be as nice as possible" voice, "Chris?" At this juncture, I'm like Pavlov's dog, trained to roll my eyes and scoff when I hear that. "What?!" "Oh, I was just wondering if maybe it was possible that we had a cell phone I could use." Homegirl, stop. Think about your request. You've been working here longer than I have. You know that we don't have one, and what could we possibly even need that for? So that you can text Miss Cleo and get your horoscopes and charge the standard text messaging fee to the lab? Do you really want the Crazy Frog ringtone that badly? No. We don't have one. She is constantly asking me if we have communal lab things. I don't know what kind of hippie commune she thinks we work at, but she needs to snap the fudge out of it.

Like I said, they aren't bad people. But they are annoying as all get out. Though I guess there's something to be said for consistency. If they all started to ackrite, I'd be liable to think it were the apocalypse. Can't you just leave me in peace to do this Sudoku online? I've got 4 more hours here and I can't be bothered to actually deal with you people right now.
 
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