Now I’m just not talking about my work specifically. These characters can be found at any work for any occupation. I’m talking being a teacher, janitor, football player, underwear model (trust me…I’ve read enough Victoria’s Secret magazines to get a vibe of what’s going on there…coincidentally it also helped me understand the lotion and tissue indust…wh…what???), jackhammer operator, wig maker, fart detector, hidden camera installer or a good old fashioned whale breeder. If you look hard enough you will be able at least one of each person at your place of work. Here we go:
Constant Talker. This person is always chattering…and 103% of it is unnecessary. Things like “Wow…what weather we’re having” (usually in an elevator), “Don’t you hate when (fill in the blank generic work everyone does)”, “I had a great lunch. I had a…”, and so on. It’s like this person can’t deal with quiet. I’m sure when the Constant Talker went to the movies and the screen said “Silence is Golden” this person said “Ok. I’ll do what you say movie screen. I understand quiet is optimal because gold is a very valuable form of currency in the world and making a proper analogy to us film watchers is to compare it to something we value like gold and in this case it’s silence and I sure wouldn’t want to deal with a chatty Cathy next to me going on and on and on and..” and before you know it the Titanic has sunk and you just want to grab the $15 Icee you bought, take out the straw with the little spoon at the end and scoop out your eardrums. The worst part is they don’t know they’re constantly talking. It’s like Dane Cook…he’s a total talentless douchebag, but constantly thinks he’s not a total talentless douchebag so he keeps talking with his doubhebaggery. Just awful.
“Me! Me! Me”. A close relative to the Constant Talker the Me3 (see what I did there) doesn’t talk constantly, but when they do…it’s about nothing about anything outside of their two peepers. All it takes is something as innocent as saying “Hello” for them to go on a rant about themselves, their cats, their extended family, their car, their house, their broken dishwasher, their trouble eating rye bread, their difficulties shopping at the Sears outlet store and even a basketball game they played in 8th grade 17 years ago when some kid stepped on their left foot and it “sort of hurt…but not that bad.” Usually at the two minutes mark of a Me3 rant is when I break my coffee mug and attempt to pierce my nipples with a jagged edge so I know I’m still alive. What should be done is attempt to short-circuit their brain. Instead of saying “Hello”, just say this…”Wow my ass really itches. Have you ever had an itchy ass?” If they don’t respond it’s a good thing and if they relate it to something in their itchy-ass life get ready to laugh…or vomit…it’s a work in progress.
By The Book. This person makes any normal worker’s life a living hell. Went for a 16 minutes break?…”You’re only supposed to go for 15 minutes”; didn’t fill out a box on a form that no one ever looks at?…”You’re supposed to fill out box 4A with your secondary ID number. Do you still have yours?”; tried to strangle By The Book with your internet cord?…”You aren’t supposed to use company property for manslaughter. That’s violating the paper you signed stating you would only use…BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”. If everyone did everything by the book then the USA wouldn’t exist, there would be no Benedict Arnold, Milli Vanilli or Rodney King beating…and honestly would the world be better off if those things didn’t happen?…oh…oh, it would?…well, actually you’re right…the whole traitor and racial beating would be better off never happening…but if you think we would be better off without Milli Vanilli…I’ll never bend on that one!!!
Smelly Guy. Notice I didn’t say smelly person. It’s always a male. Have you smelled the difference between a male and female locker room? The men’s locker room has a smell that’s like a combination of sweaty clothes, millions of farts fermenting in the air and someone’s sandwich from the Jimmy Carter administration that was put in the vents as a joke, but no one noticed. The women’s locker room smells of heaven and has locks that are near impossible to cut of…I mean back to Smelly Guy.
You never know who Smelly Guy is right off the bat. You just notice an odor in the air during a meeting with your whole team/staff. Next you walk by a certain area of the workplace and get the same whiff of ass that helps you narrow your search of Smelly Guy to a handful of people. The Scooby Doo moment of nabbing the culprit usually happens when you have to ask Smelly Guy a question and you get raped in the nose by his stench of death, when he sits next to you at lunch and effectively stabs your appetite with a dead possum or, worst of all, when you’re in a crowded elevator and Smelly Guy is right in front of you (you have nowhere to go and it’s a looooooong way down to salvation. Heaven forbid people have to get off or on. You may just puke on Smelly Guy to improve the odor of the area.)
The worst part is…you can’t say anything to Smelly Guy. It will hurt him too much because he’s always a sensitive person who doesn’t handle criticism well. You just have to grin and bear it by avoiding Stinky Greg at all costs.
Guy You Hate. There’s nothing he did wrong. There’s nothing that can help. There’s nothing you want more than Guy You Hate to burn in Hell forever…and you don’t know why.
Maybe it’s his hair. Maybe it’s his humor. Maybe it’s his love of pears for lunch. Maybe it’s his kids who he never shuts up about. Maybe it’s just the fact his name is Kyle, but one thing is for sure…you hate this guy.
The worst part is you still have to work with Guy You Hate to keep your job. You nod and smile politely, but once he turns his head you strangle your pen like it’s a prison shank and want to jam it in his neck just for breathing…but you need it to write down the idea he just mentioned because it was pretty good.
F*** you Guy You Hate!
Hot Guy/Girl. This person may not be the hottest person in your whole work place, but he/she is the one you see everyday. And you may see them everyday, but they aren’t in your department, so you have no chance to get all sweaty, nervous and awkwardly ask if he/she likes pandas? Why pandas? I have no f***ing clue it all went black for ten seconds.
For how much the Guy You Hate ruins your life, Hot Guy/Girl brightens your day by just being at work walking around. Nothing makes me happier at work then noticing you pass by, acting like I had to stretch my back and gawking at your butt as you walk by Hot Guy/Girl…wait, just Hot Girl…unless it’s Jeff…I could watch him walk for miles in a Speedo…whew!!!
Anywho please don’t leave Hot Guy/Girl. If you leave I wouldn’t know what to do with my life. I guess I’d have to bring Jeff some bamboo shoots because I know he likes pandas…mmmmmmmmm, Jeff…I want your pen…pe…pen!…your pen!!! It’s…blue. Haha…please ignore the previous paragraph, ladies…don’t worry I still like you…because I don’t have a chance with Jeff.
Too Personal. Want to hear about someone’s period flow? Ask Too Personal. Looking for video of someone getting a colonoscopy? Find Too Personal…it’s in HD. Yearning for the pain and suffering of someone’s divorce and have someone start crying on your shoulder for 13 minutes of awkwardness? Too Personal’s your guy!
Some things just shouldn’t be talked about…and that’s something Too Personal doesn’t get.
Never Seen Person. You get emails from Sonya. You have coworkers talk about Sonya. Now you have to go talk to Sonya. Only one problem…where the hell is Sonya and what the hell does she look like?
First you have to ask around to at least three coworkers about where Sonya’s desk is. Finally you get someone who thinks they know, give you directions to where they think it is and when you get there you realize…it’s your desk.
After finding a second Guy You Hate you talk to your manager who gives you correct directions to Sonya’s desk. You get there…but she isn’t. Now you have to ask around to see when she’ll be back and by this point you don’t give a crap anymore and just throw the file on Sonya’s desk with such venom the paper clip flies off leaving 54 pages scattered on her desk. You think you got the last laugh…but when Sonya gets back she knows who you are and where you sit.
And now you are Guy Sonya Hates.
I know there are more out there. I’m open to suggestions…oh I have one more.
Guy Who Complains About People At Work. Crap.
