I eat breakfast every work day at the same time. Not out of any neurotic OCD obsessiveness, that’s just crazy, but from pure introvert obsessiveness which is totally sane and relatable. At 10:15 every morning the snack bar is almost completely void of the scourge known as “other people” and there are plenty of quiet corners I can hide in and happily devour my grilled cheese sandwich like it was a dairy covered lover complete with soft but inappropriate noises of appreciation, ecstasy induced eye rolling, leg shaking and prolific licking of the fingers with cringe worthy slurping noises. It’s my scheduled 10 minutes of unadulterated joy every day and while it will probably land me with several sexual harassment complaints at some point for now it’s “my precious” and anyone that disturbs it instantly earns a place near the top of my wish list for when we finally institute the purge. So imagine my face when I’m settling into my quiet corner in the huge and empty cafeteria for my daily dose of cheesy euphoria when this low down, no good, shit mitten, muff scratt, tub fart, warthog faced, Shrek looking bag of bitch had the nerve, the nerve I say to Sit.Across.From.Me!!! There’s a whole open goddamn dining room the size of Donald Trump’s giant floppy ass that’s emptier than a condom machine after seventh fleet shore leave but this puerile cunty big balls decides forcibly inserting himself into my quiet place during love sandwich mastication time at the very next table seems like a swell idea. AND THEN doesn’t even have the decency to turn his back to me but sits facing me like some sort of social decency deviant. Dude!!! I sat there stink eyeing him like a disdainful meerkat thinking I could silently make him uncomfortable enough to move but apparently not because as god as my witness THAT MOTHERFUCKER SMILED AT ME!!! What kind of psychopath does that??? And before one of you soft hearted snot rags @’s me with a, “maybe he was lonely” you can just stuff it. Let him get drunk and call 900 numbers and government officials like the rest of us instead of terrorizing attractive (sort of) young (vaguely) women during their daily conjugal cheese visit. For crying out loud there is not a bag of dicks big enough to even respond to that nonsense.
It’s bowling night and I’m shitty as ever
but I also I can’t find my Easy Slide which is powdery stuff that helps you slide. Shocking right? Finally gave up digging through the doorway to Narnia that is my purse and went to go buy some only I’m old and kind of a flake so for the life of me couldn’t remember the name. The only thing that came to mind was Astro Glide because apparently I’m also kind of a perv as well as an old flake. To be fair it’s the same concept but for a completely different sport. Thankfully my brain engaged just enough to keep me from actually saying Astro Glide but still not enough to save me so there I stood just repeatedly saying, “Do you have any, umm…umm..” and turning beat red because sex lube was all I could think of while staring at a kid young enough to be my child. Eww. Finally got my shit together enough to stutter, “sly stuvv.” Dougie Howser just looked at me like I’d taken one too many hits for my glaucoma but figured out what I meant and finished the transaction without further trauma but what the ever loving fuck is wrong with my damn self? You’d think I was a geriatric back alley hooker instead of a mild mannered middle aged former librarian.
There’s some sort of excitement going on in my ghetto neighborhood tonight. There are rural fire trucks and cable guys everywhere. I’m guessing a cable line came down but the meth makers are worried about their product and keep calling the rual fire department. They keep showing up, drive around for second and then leave again but the cable guys are still here. Was standing at the window with my dogs watching the excitement of meth heads scrambling to hide their stash when I noticed one of my neighbor ladies. She’s either a tweaker in her late twenties or a normal person in her late fifties. Either way she still does a pretty good job of rocking what she’s got. I saw her come out of her house, dressed like a normal person after work, sweats and a tshirt and pony tail. She surveyed the situation and went back in only to reappear a few minutes later in cute but tight capris and a sleeveless shirt with her hair down and flowing and standing in one of those cute girl poses with one knee sort of bent. Not to be outdone when the Gods of man meat are smiling down on me and practically delivering potential afternoon delights to my door, I sashayed out onto the porch in my own super sexy wear, aka sweats I stole from my ex boyfriend who was 6 ft 4 and 400 lbs. Just imagine a super white sumo wrestler with a goatee and redneck accent and that’d be him. So you can imagine just how seductive this getup really is. (Or how unseductive he was.)The crotch of my sweat pants sags down to my knees and are held up with a safety pin. And being outside braless isn’t really doing me any good as this shirt looks like something I bought at Ozark tent and awning. So I’m just standing here hoping the breeze will blow my way and at least sort of show off my pendulous bosom in the right light. So far I haven’t captured me a hunky fireman but my efforts (or my dogs) did earn me a wave from one of the volunteer fire kids so I’m still calling this evening a win. Bow chica wow wow ya’ll.
And while this sweet clusterfuck was unraveling I had texted work to make them aware of my situation. I expected some snarky response but was relieved that they at least had mercy on me. Or did they? Of course not. Sure enough when I get to the office Cowoker McSnarky with the photoshop skills hands me this masterpiece. Then my boss is yelling, “Too bad, this is on you!!!” and I’m yelling, “I KNOW!!” and now I’m totally feeling like a less competent version of Rodney Dangerfield. *sniffle* No respect!
Unfamiliar soldier (US): Hi Beth! I’m blah blah blah from Charlie Company blah blah blah and I own the students in blah blah blah and I just got here blah blah blah. (If I don’t have to deal with you on a regular basis and you don’t come bearing gifts I’m not going to bother to remember who you are or what you do. It’s not your fault, I’m just that lazy. And kind of an asshole.) I’m just going around getting a feel for the place and learning who everyone is…
Me: (interrupting) Oh you’re a good person then! I rarely leave my cube or care what everyone else does.
US: (Looks startled then laughs like I’m joking) Oh well it’s good to get to know the people you work with. So what do you do?
Me: (deer in headlights: wait, what do I do again? Dipshittery on Facebook isn’t my job! Say something!) ((Babbles incoherently about education and training development)) So feel free to stop by anytime. Especially if you have snacks.
US: Oh do you bring in snacks a lot?
Me: No, I meant you. You bring snacks.
US: (Looking increasingly uncomfortable) ((laughs nervously)) Oh, ha, yes. What kind of snacks do you prefer?
Me: Oh I’ll eat anything but cheese is always a good choice.
US: Ha, good to know. (Bolts like a rabbit)
And that boys and girls is how you use advanced social awkwardness to alienate coworkers and get a reputation as an addlepated nut monkey. You’re welcome!