DIARY OF AN URBAN MILKMAID


PROFILE GUESTBOOK OLD OLDER OLDEST
Sales Meeting today. My out of town boss and both my in-office bosses will be here today. Ugh. This really cuts into my normal daily routine. You know, the chatting with friends, dicking around on the internet routine... Naw. Just kidding. I do work. I just "make it look easy".

So, this morning, before boss gets here, I really have to file. He's going to ask me for some document, and I won't be able to find it without a good ten minute search. Not dignified at all.

Speaking of not dignified - there is a character at my office - Let's call him Arnold, shall we? Anyway, Arnold is the man with the gigantic butt, that caused me to cast away the probable love of my life last week at Borders. I don't know what it is with Arnold. With most people, I can find some place of mutual understanding - something about them I can relate to and enjoy. I get to learn from my experiences with others, and become a better, more well-rounded person because of them - but not with old Arnold. Arnold is the type of guy that my fellow workers (even the other oddities) literally hide from when they see him walking down the hall. They grab a telephone receiver and pretend to be talking, they don't look up from their computer screens or make any hint of eye contact, because that is all Arnold needs. He will then trap the poor undeserving worker in their office, and blather drivel at them - really monotonous, "I'm gonna kill myself if he doesn't shut up in 30 seconds" drivel.

And, then there's the nose-blowing. The HONKING, every hour on the hour, or anytime he's waddling up or down the hall. It's a startling sound - like his nose is farting! He uses a handkerchief to wipe his aforementioned nose. Afterwhich he places said handkerchief back into his pocket. He never washes his hands after the honking - and will usually proceed into somebody's office, and grab a cookie, or a chip, or whatever is there with those same honked-on hands. BLEH!!!

I really have tried to find some common ground with Arnold. I'm a normally friendly, rather perky individual. I have no real enemies at work (well, not since the Customer Service Supervisor got fired...), but it's gotten to the point where I can't make eye contact with old Arnold any more. It's far too risky. I feel bad about it, but I just can't. He'll talk to me, or honk at me, or something.

My office mates and I have already decided - we'll simply have to individually wrap all the Christmas cookies this year.

SLAY ON BUFFY

July 25, 2001

Buh Bye!
October 05, 2008

Be Afraid, People.... Really Afraid
September 01, 2008

One Last Bitchfest for the Road
August 24, 2008

Get the Popcorn Ready
July 17, 2008

I'm a Rich Ho-Bag
June 20, 2008



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