Laboring on the Island of Misfit Toys:

I am writing this as a co-worker who shall remain nameless, but who is known for suffering from gastric distress, is shouting into the phone to her sister about the tragic earthquake in China. Her screams are so loud that Maud--whose cell is at least twice as far away from hers as mine is--called me to bitch. Apparently she who needs more roughage has been searching the web for information about casualties. Casualties among the pandas, that is. "According to the Chinese government," she screams, "all of the giant pandas are safe. I dunno, the British newspapers seem skeptical." And so on. In a past life I must have set orphanages on fire.

But why should we be annoyed or surprised by this? After all, every fucking day brings yet another disgusting tale about one or another of the miscreants who are our co-workers. For example, there is the early 50-something, never married neocon who always brushes his teeth after meals. "But isn't that a good thing," you might exclaim? Yes, yes it is. Unless.... You see, a male co-worker saw said goofball place his toothbrush at the top of a urinal before taking a whizz. Sadly, the toothbrush suddenly fell, landing in the urinal drain. I think you would agree that a normal person would have thrown out the toothbrush. A normal person. But not this guy. Nope, he merely walked over to the sinks and rinsed it off. No doubt he still uses that toothbrush--a toothbrush that is covered with microscopic remnants of the urine produced by every man working on our floor.

Did I mention that a sign appeared one day in the nearest pantry that politely asked a nameless co-worker to refrain from "spitting in the kitchen sink?"

Or the other co-worker who goes into a trance when he is walking the floors, looking for a big pair of tits or a bouncy butt? As he trolls for T & A, he continually strikes his upper thighs with his balled up hands.

Ah, so many tales, so little time. But I must share a bit of what Mr. Slice just told me about his experiences today. Mr. Slice's day started when he visited the men's room and noticed that the only other occupant was a co-worker who we consider rather addled (I find it remarkable that (a) he finds his way to the office and (b) he doesn't wear pants with obvious urine stains). Shortly after entering the bathroom, Mr. Slice heard him proclaim, "I must take my medication." Mr. Slice discreetly looked around to see who addled co-worker was talking to. There was no one else in the bathroom. Well, no one that Mr. Slice could see. Later in the day, Mr. Slice again went into the men's room and saw an employee washing his feet at the sinks. He says that this employee and one other routinely wash their feet and arms at the sinks. He thinks it is a religious ritual. Of course, neither of us is willing to google this ritual for fear that nothing will turn up. Finally, as he leaves the men's room and heads to his cube, Mr. Slice notices a pair of legs sticking out of a row of cubicles into the hallway. As he approaches, he sees that the legs belong to a quirky, sort of charming yet paranoid co-worker who has plopped down on the floor in front of her office with the contents of her handbag strewn about. He assumes that she has misplaced the keys to open her office door, because he would rather not contemplate the other alternatives. Ah, an average day.

Comments

[JDM]

Ur lucky Carol works from her bedroom.

[Tengrain]

GMB -

I have a coworker who clips his toenails in the stairwells.

Just plops himself down, takes off his shoes and socks and gets to work on his talons. And of course, he leaves the detritus of his toilette there.

But I think you win.

Regards,

Tengrain

[gmb]

JDM: Carol might be an improvement. Except for the shouting about Jesus and lakes of radiation, of course.
Tengrain: Shit, that comes awfully close. I must tell Maud. The sound of someone clipping their nails sends her into a tailspin. The thing is, as Mr. Slice noted, it's one thing to have one or two co-workers who are eccentric/odd, but it's quite another when it is one out of two. And, sadly, those are our odds. Sigh. GMB

[fairlane]

It sounds like a fun place to work. You should write a sitcom.

[gmb]

Fairlane: It's odd, really. On the one hand it is funny, but on the other hand, it's really only funny in the telling. And my nieces and nephew keep telling me to do the comic strip that I thought about based on my experiences. The title? The Amazing Adventures of Catatonic Fred (he's not quite alive, but he's not exactly dead). Yeah, I didn't even mention him, did I? GMB

[Sorghum Crow]

Holy crap. I've worked with some "interesting" people, but your story takes the cake. Maybe there's something in the water?

[Maud]

Believe me, GMB showed restraint here. Once, when the gastric-distressed coworker farted, Mr. Slice, who'd believed GMB was exaggerating, thought they'd water tunnel blasting had resumed across the street.

[Maud]

Oops. Make that "thought water tunnel blasting had resumed across the street."

[Maud]

Oh, also, apparently the casual annoyance Mr. Never-Married Neocon evinced as he retrieved his toothbrush from the urinal -- setting it back on its perch long enough to take a leak before washing it -- suggested that this wasn't the first time the thing had fallen in....

[Jenn]

GMB - You must collect all of your work-related stories, even those from your previous workplaces, like the ones about the guy with Elephantiasis (sp?) of the, you know, and publish them. Your loyal hits to this site will make it an instant bestseller, you'll go on Oprah and become a star!! Don't you all agree?

[Maud]

I'm still holding out for the comic book -- or the Goreyesque alphabet book.

[Tim]

I worked with a guy who used to, how shall I say, "relieve himself" in the urinal. I mean...RELIEVE HIMSELF. He was quite open about it: "Ah, man, I'm so horny, I gotta go beat off!" and he'd run into the men's room. If you went in there while he was doing it he would completely ignore you, pulling his pecker while he stood at the urinal: "Oh yeah, eeyargh, gak..." It was so shocking that nobody thought to report him to HR, and he finally quit before anybody had him fired.

[Maud]

Oh my God, Tim, you win! One of my favorite stories is the one GMB's mom told about going into the bathroom at the hotel where she worked to see a coworker standing in front of the sinks, stark naked, brushing her hair.

[Tim]

>a coworker standing in front of the sinks, stark naked, brushing her hair.

Oooooh, that's hot! Hold on, damn, I gotta go to the men's room!

[gmb]

Sorghum: God, I hope not. My theory is this: most of my co-workers have no contact with clients (same with me and Maud, of course). Let's just say that if interacting with clients became a job requirement, a whole bunch of them would be unemployed.
Maud: I think Mr. Slice believed me, but he didn't realize that farting co-worker was so open and notorious. But I must admit I had a good laugh after he ran over to my cell and asked "was that what I think it was?" Oh yes, Mr. Slice, it sure was. As for Mr. Neocon...I have no doubt that his toothbrush is regularly bathed in pooled urine. Yuck.
Jenn: Christ, I almost forgot about that. If I thought I could write this up, go on Oprah and laugh all the way to the bank, I'd do it in a nanosecond. That said, as Maud knows I've started (but really really need to finish) my Gorey-esque alphabet book. It's meant to prepare children for the harsh reality that is working for the man. I've got eight done...18 to go.
Tim: That is appalling. Even by my workplace's standards.
Maud: Actually, my mother didn't see it and it wasn't a hotel. My mother managed the food service for the headquarters of a well-known, global pharmaceutical company. One of the woman's co-workers saw her brushing her hair au naturel (and proceeded to tell everyone). That would freak me out. I swear, if I walked in and saw that I would walk the hell out and not say a word (well, I would warn you and a few others, but that's it).
Tim: Hahahahahahahahahahaha. You are a funny man. GMB

[FranIAm]

I don't feel so good. (sorry i have not been around much, have been reading but not commenting. you know i could not pass this one up!)

[dguzman]

Wow. Wow. There's a chemist at my workplace who farts rather loudly and regularly, in between calls to and from his wife, with whom he has phone sex at least five times a day. From his desk. At normal phone-voice volume. In a cubicle environment. Still--at least he's upstairs where I can't hear him; I only hear his neighbors' complaints at the lunch table.

You have my sympathies, all of you!

[gmb]

Fran: Yep, you know who she is. I have to tell you, when I wrote this up I thought that most people would yawn. Everyone has crazy co-workers, no? But it seems that most people think my work place is a bit, um, extreme. It's sort of like when you climb into a pool and it seems cold at first, but after a few minutes it seems fine. I think I've gotten use to some truly odd behavior. Oi.
dguzman: He could work at my place. Really. He would fit in very comfortably. GMB

[Marla]

This is fantastic - I thought I'd worked with the crazy. I used to sit next to a law firm practice leader who played games on his Palm most of the time, when he was not clipping his toenails ON HIS DESK WITH THE OFFICE DOOR OPEN. Then there was the guy who, when he got into one of those "special moods," would command his secretary to use his gold teapot and cup set and serve him tea in front of clients - they got styrofoam or our pooled skanky old mugs, but he got the wee little gold china cups. And this was to clients - the people who pay us!

When I worked for Japanese companies long ago I thought it was a little odd for the expats to come into the office, take their shoes off and spend the rest of the day flapping around in their dress socks and plastic carpet slippers, but now I know that is nothing to look twice at.

[gmb]

Marla: Mr. Precious and his tea set is very odd. If I were a client, well, I wouldn't be after that display. I'm surprised the other partners let him do that shit. As for the toe clipper...bad personal habits seem universal, no? There's always one or two that manage to appall the others. Sadly, as Mr. Slice noted, at my place of employment it's more like one out of two. Trust me, I've only scratched the surface. GMB

[Marla]

gmb - in the wacky world of bad management, Mr. Precious has been rewarded for being management's favorite, so now we can use our Gollum voice and call him "the Presssscioussssss"

[gmb]

Marla: Why am I not surprised. No doubt they will get him a small silver tray intended to hold a treat just for him--clients can have paper. Oi. GMB