You know how when you're in a public setting and a switch in your brain turns off preventing you from talking about private matters strangers shouldn't know? It's the same switch that turns off and prevents you from making a giant ass of yourself. If you don't know about it, you're probably from the QC. It's as if the Mississippi River somehow negated all common sense and left me in a world of tell-all dramas and zero common sense. Here's proof:
1) Tonight while buying a $50 gift card to a taco shop (long story, involves street corners, cops, favors, and broken knees), the cashier, Miranda, told the person standing next to me, Gina, all about her life. Gina asked Miranda if she married that Eric guy yet. Miranda said, "Oh you mean Rick? No. We're still together, but I'm 27 and way too young to get married. Besides, we want our kids to be old enough they can participate in our wedding."
I think, "That makes no sense."
Gina responds, "Oh. That makes sense."
Miranda goes on to tell Gina about how right now though her and Rick haven't talked in two days since she kicked him out after talking with that Renee girl again. This made Gina VERY unhappy. Gina said she never forgave Bob for hitting on that stupid bitch and that's what probably led to their divorce. Miranda then asked how the divorce is going, also commenting on how skinny Gina looks now. Gina says, "Yeah. I'm trying. Men gotta want me again."
It should be noted that my $50 gift card took an unusual time to ring up, probably because Miranda and Gina thought I was interested in their stories. I wasn't.
2) A woman, two cubicles down from me, also incredibly overweight, seriously, she's shaped like a misshaped pear, has 70's glasses, and hair that went out of style three days after Adam and Eve grew hair, represents evil. Since I can't call her by her real name, I'll pick a neutral name to describe her: The Bitch Cow. Now due to my excessive patience and love for idiots, I generally give people several chances before I root for their imminent termination and life-crushing torment. I call it my three strikes and you're out policy:
Strike One-Holiday Potluck. My tenure with the company: 2 months. The Bitch Cow organized a potluck. For those of you who have never organized a potluck, it's incredibly easy. In fact, it might be the easiest event to plan ever-you literally do nothing but set up tables and power strips. Of course, because Jesus wants me to be fat for my impending nuptials, the potluck was right by my desk. This evidently meant the Bitch Cow could bark orders at me all day. "Move that table." "Plug that in." Luckily she had to go pick up meat from Hy-Vee and left the office for two hours (even though Hy-Vee is less than a fifteen minute walk from our office). When she came back she told me, "Hey you, help me out with this meat." I love friendly people. I helped her. Then when people were enjoying the potluck, I made sure everyone knew that I agreed with the rest of the office's assessment-she's worthless.
Strike Two-Last Friday. Again, I sit two cubicles down from this woman. I have sat their for six months. I am literally in the middle of the rest of her team. I talk to them all regularly. She pops up out of nowhere last Friday (not true, I saw her waddle over and could hear her breathe) and asks, "Do you work for so and so?" "Yes, yes I do." "Then you're involved with Project X right?" "Yes, that comes with working with so and so." "Well come here. I have something you can help me with." I then follow the Bitch Cow to her desk. She proceeds to yell at me for something that I literally have nothing to do with. She wants me to fix the problem. I tell her to forward me the email, so I can work on it. Even though this means forward me the email so I can delete it. She clicks forward and asks, "And you are..."
I'm perfectly okay with not knowing my name. God knows there are plenty of people around the office who I don't know, BUT...BUT...one more time...BUT I at least know the people in a two cube vicinity. Not to mention, I've talked to her once a week since last September. Even if you somehow don't know my name by know, walk by my god damned cubicle, it's right there.
Strike Three-Today. The Bitch Cow, being from the worst of the four QCs, suffers big time from the "Everyone wants to hear what I have to say," disease. Today, while I attempted to do two hours of work in forty five minutes, so I could go home and read about Brett Favre's inexplicable retirement (come on, he couldn't have gone one more year?), I heard her discuss medical issues (both mundane and horrific), her impending wedding to a deadbeat, and how she can't believe her whole team is out of the office today, she's so busy. Right. If you're so busy Bitch Cow, how do you find the time to talk to one of your ugly friends on the phone for an hour about nothing related to our jobs? How?
3) Last Wednesday night I attended Amateur Night at a local comedy club. Some of the comedians were great, some were decent, and one was amazingly awful. Now far be it for me to critique another person's attempt at comedy. After all, lots of people think Napoleon Dynamite is funny--it's not--and that Royal Tenenbaums is stupid--it's not--but I think I'm safe to say JoJo from the comedy club is not funny. In fact, I'm not sure she'd heard a joke before she listened to the four comedians who preceded her on stage.
Her lead joke, of course, about the weather: "So some weather we're having huh? Old Man Winter must have taken his Viagra this winter, because he's certainly giving us a blowjob."
Now, I'm not a homosexual man. Unlike my brother, I've never given a man a blowjob, nor do I intend to perform such acts. However, archaic as my understanding may be, I'm pretty sure Viagra creates an erection in the taker of the pill, not the taker of the pill's boyfriend. While some of the side effects might not be pleasant, I'm pretty sure none of them mention, "Mouth becomes magnetized towards nearby erections." I suppose JoJo could have assumed Old Man Winter sits around at Viagra parties and everyone's popping pills, but I don't think so.
After seven minutes of jokes that ended with the same, "Uh...okay," when no one laughed, she ended with two bits of unrivaled genius:
The first-she told a gripping story about how she wanted a refund of $.01 per pound on her bananas at a giant retailer to meet the advertised price. There was no punchline to this story. She talked about bananas and pricing and waiting in lines for two minutes. Thrilling stuff.
The second-she asked the crowd, "Do any of you guys suck up at work?" Some fellow comedians of hers, clearly feeling sorry for her, cheered loudly. She then said, "Boo. You stink!" and threw candy at them. Next, she asked the crowd, "Do any of you play golf with your boss even though you hate it?" Again, people who cheered were told they stink and got candy thrown at them. I could actually see in her mind (telepathy) that she thought this would illicit huge cheers and a standing ovation to escort her off stage. Instead, it created an awkward ending to a deplorable act.
It should be noted JoJo did have the guts to go up on stage, something which I did not. I'm sure you'll all attest my stories are just as, if not a little more, boring than the banana story.
There are plenty of more examples of QC ignorance, but I'm tired and the recall area of my brain has shut down. Peace.
No comments:
Post a Comment