You have the protocol girl who, when you tell her about the time you went to lunch at 12:15 and came back at 1:15, she gasps, and you spend the rest of the day convincing her that there's not an official office document entitled "Lunchtime Change Order."
There's fast-walker guy, who's got to have a cubicle in the office, but you've never seen it, and you know that if you were to buy the right sneakers and train rigorously for 18 months, you would be able to try following him around one day and you he would finally find out where the heck he was always going, but you're not sure.
There's also ditzy slut lady. Once I saw her at her desk, immediately after she left the bathroom for the third time since I'd worked here, where she realized that the computer monitor makes a pretty darn good mirror if it's turned off. She didn't want to sit by the copier when she typed her first memo because "It's my memo, and if Ricoh wants one, her can make his own.”
There's also Mr. poopy mouth. Not that I've ever tried really hard, but I still can't imagine any of our shipping packages actually having sex, and certainly not with their mothers. I remember being puzzled as I watched him begin to hastily open a package returned for insufficient postage immediately after most-assuredly identifying it as the feces of a steer. I, personally, ran like hell upon hearing his warning.
Humble Asian fellow is a good guy. He typically sneaks up on me from behind and I finally scream when he taps my shoulder. Protocol girl told me that once he stood behind me for over two hours trying to get my attention, slowly inching forward. He's great because if he ever gets what he wants, he bows to you. Last Friday I saw him repeatedly bow and say thank you to one of his supervisors while being reprimanded solidly for a good half-hour.
Moody woman is tough to get along with. You wish her a good morning and she propositions you. I'm very scared of her. Whenever I approach her, I kind of pretend I'm humble Asian fellow, except I drag my feet loudly, hoping not to startle her. Scapegoat, the guy that works next to me, lost an arm for much less. Her blood-pressure medicine is just a siphon going from her forehead directly to the local blood bank.
Sometimes handicapped condescending guy comes up to me and asks me to make a bunch of twelve sided, collated copies on three-hole punched transparencies, stapled. When he places his order he doesn't even lift his head from whatever he's doing. One time I dropped my pants to the floor and did my "why-can't-you-just-do-your-own-damn-copying-especially-since-all-you-do-all-day-is-drink-coffee-and-be-an-executive-and-talk-about-mutual-funds" dance for him, but he still didn't look up.
Pervert guy is pretty cool because he has a very economical offensiveness quotient. I mean he's the microprocessor of smut. He's92 years old and he thinks he has about 11 girlfriends in the office, all of them almost totaling him in age. He'll go up to ditsy slut and say, "Oh, I missed you so much," and then give her this sick, drawn-out hug, followed by her saying, "Oh you silly, I just saw you yesterday." He'll say, "Oh," but the funny thing is it happens every day.
Gay guy I can't stand, because he's usually trying to be my friend. But I don't want to be friends, I just want to be and act heterosexual all day. He pretends to be straight, and even mentions "the family" or "the wife and kids," only he calls them "kidth." It sucks because he gets all the chicks in the office, since even though "men are scum," I guess gay men aren't. I overheard pervert guy telling Mr. poopy mouth that he might try being gay for awhile.
There's also sister Zulu queen. She's the receptionist and everybody in the office dates her. At least she refers to us all as "girlfriend." She has, I think, nine illegitimate children, from different fathers, and she's only 19. I think they had to order some special, super-reinforced double seated chair from Office Max, to accommodate her huge buttocks. Actually, it might have been two. I just wish she'd stop asking me what I think about the cubic zirconia in her nostril. Actually, I think it's very ugly.
One guy I really don't like is spoiled rotten chachie wasp cracker kid. He does the mail, and drives a BMW 750il, slammed. I think I was at his house once, because I have this picture of his parents telling him," Why, sure we love you, but if you don't get a job, nobody will believe you when you tell them you bought it with your own money." At last count I think he had six pagers, two with the same number and two others that were forwarded to the original two. His parents' code number, I believe, is 6969. He was out for two days last week because his cell phone was in the shop.
Lesbian lady is another of my favorites, because she loves to ride mountain bikes and get tattoos and be ugly. I used to get her mixed up with low self-esteem can't get a guy to give her the time of day lady before she quit. I have since had no problem realizing the difference. Low self-esteem can't get a guy to give her the time of day lady hadless B.O. and generally sat with her legs together.
Joe loyal stopped me the other day because I had made roughly one copy of a spec sheet on the bond paper instead of the cheap kind. He threatened to report my "actions" to my supervisor so I asked him for his hall pass. His license plate reads "STMDHQP," which stands for the company quality statement: "Sunrise Telecom Makes Desirable, High Quality Products." I think he may just be one of them.
I hope you've liked them. I'm sure I could come up with many more, were I to have the time. This has, of course, lasted much of this sullen Tuesday afternoon. Ooooh, I just thought of one more: Sit around all day doing nothing but email and browse the internet dude.
Thanks,
Jensen Oler Customer Service Clerk Sunrise Telecom, Inc.
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