Pissing Me Off

I don’t know, maybe I’ve officially become a “grumpy old man”, but lately small things that I wouldn’t have even given a passing thought before bug me more and more, especially at work. I share my office with a woman I call the Amazon. She’s six feet one at least 200 pounds and bleached blonde. More on her later. My desk in my office sits facing the hallway. I’m not sure why but every time someone passes by they have to look in…why? What the hell are you looking at? There’s an old fat white lady who waddles by my office every morning to get to her office and she finds it impossible to walk by without saying something as she goes by. This morning she said “ooh breakfast” because I was eating…shut the hell up old woman. She also sits in a big bullpen along with about 5 other people and whenever I walk into the room to talk to someone she says “hey good looking”…leave me alone you old bat!

How about this I’m working on something at my computer and some idiot walks in and stands there until I look up. Then they hand me something that they could have left in my in basket, which by the way I went out of my way to label “IN” in bold letters. It’s an in basket people USE IT! Or I’m on the phone, never mind that I’m probably talking to my mother (who by the way says “tell them you’re talking to your mother”) and someone says “Would it be okay if I asked you a question?” Sure, would it be okay if I put my foot up your ass?…leave me alone I’m on the phone asshole. Even as I type this now some idiot is standing in front of me waiting for me to finish so he can ask some stupid ass question. Seriously buddy, keep it moving. And by the way I am so sick of doing other people’s jobs because they’re inept, lazy or it would just take too much time to explain it to the idiot but if it means I don’t have to talk to them then I guess I’m the man. But I really want to twinkle my nose like Samantha from Bewitched and banish them to some cold dark airless hole.

I don’t understand, I used to be the life of the office party and even looked forward to them now I just make excuses to not attend. My office mate, the Amazon is always trying to get me to go out to lunch with her for what she calls her Tequila Tuesdays. I don’t want to get drunk with you crazy woman my tongue might get loose and I may end up telling you exactly what I think of your lazy, self-important, not showing up on time, constantly complaining, wanna be Farrah Fawcett ass. And by the way the baby doll dresses have got to go…YOU’RE TOO BIG WOMAN! And the pumps only make you look taller and bigger. Lord knows I don’t want to be in the vicinity for the 8.0 tremor sure to occur when the pressure of her 200 plus pounds causes one of those pump heels to collapse.

If I receive one more email requesting me to attend another meeting where the only thing we accomplish is setting a date for the next meeting I swear I’m gonna go postal on this place. And speaking of emails, how do I get theses idiots to STOP SENDING ME CHAIN LETTERS!! I don’t have time to read them and why do they have so much time on their hands anyway? Get some damn work done. Why aren’t you working on that project we discussed in our last useless meeting dumb ass? And I gotta ask what’s the deal with these people insisting I eat their homemade cookies and cakes. I don’t know you and I don’t know what your house or kitchen look like…but I do know you smell like old grey cheese, which leads me to think you might have animals crawling around your kitchen counter. Cookies? Uh…no thanks.

Lastly, I refuse to attend one more office baby shower, birthday or anniversary party. I DON’T KNOW YOU LIKE THAT and I’m not contributing to the damn fund to buy your ass a gift. You want to know what the fund got me for my last birthday? Homemade cookies from the old fat broad, which I tossed in the trash, on my way to lunch (by myself). And I’m sick of buying your bad ass kids stale ass fundraiser candy. What the hell? I got 5 grandkids of my own. I oughtta start making up fundraisers myself to save for their damn college educations. Maybe I am a grumpy old man but one thing I know for sure I would love to have Samantha stop by so she can twinkle her nose and put me on a nice tropical beach somewhere with an ice cold cocktail where I don’t have to deal with these crazies. Damn here comes the old fat broad.