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Posts Tagged ‘weirdo coworkers’

sick days cube vultures
Given the circumstances of Typhoid Mildred’s recent departure, people have been more restrained than usual in their cube plundering.

Usually the vultures descend quickly and start scooping up staplers, rulers, mousepads – anything that isn’t bolted to the floor.

Of course it’s just a matter of time. Once someone makes a move and unplugs her desk fan, all bets are off.

The larger issue will be who gets Mildred’s cube. It has indirect light and a partial view of a corner of a window, so in Hamish terms, it’s a very desirable piece of real estate.

Word is that the lobbying for her cube has already started on the QT. Innocent emails of inquiry to Clark and casual hints dropped at the water fountain.

It’s kind of creepy. Her seat isn’t even cold yet.

While I have no intention of claiming a stake (it’s a fixer up ‘er and likely haunted) I do have an interest in who gets it.

My worse case scenario has Otto moving in. Or Farook. Or Mike. In fact, when I think about it, there’s no one in the office that I can imagine being able to co-exist with for any length of time. I’m not sure what that says about them – or me.

I might be okay with a photocopier. It’s hard to say. They can be noisy and draw a crowd.

Mildred wasn’t the most engaging neighbour but she was quiet, professional and made me laugh. Plus, she kept other people out of our corner of the office. And she made me tea once.

Oh. My. God… I miss Mildred!

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Otto sick day gas horror
Otto continues to be unwell. (That’s the understatement of the year.)

He called in sick again.

As is always the case, an Otto-free zone means everyone’s getting a lot more work done. Plus, the weirdo quotient is lower.

This morning we needed to get a file from his filing cabinet. No one wanted to go near it. We all figured it was probably booby trapped – or possessed.

I drew the short straw…

I started in his top drawer. That was okay. A stapler, nine boxes of business cards and a flier from a sperm bank. Weird, but not the sort of thing that leaves you unhinged.

The middle drawer was stranger. Much stranger. A copy of my personal file, a kazoo, a pair of underpants, an I Love Lucy Pez dispenser, and a mini chainsaw.

It was in the bottom drawer that I hit the mother-lode of freakiness. I found the files, thankfully, but also…

A Wonder Woman action figure

A gas mask

A bunch of photocopies of someone’s ass (Otto’s, I’m guessing)

A plastic bag of chattering teeth

A carton of Yak Milk

A book about “American Elves”

A stuffed and mounted hamster

Pencil sketches of Clark

And what looked suspiciously like a human toe

I’m never going back in there again. Ever. I have to call our EAP now. Plus, I need a long shower and about five years of therapy.

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sick days to do
Otto was off sick today. Despite the additional work, this is a good thing.

But we had a minor crisis involving one of Otto’s files and I had to ransack his desk in search of some paperwork.

Otto’s desk is – I suspect – much like the inside of his head. A dark, cluttered and scary place.

I found the file and a number of other troubling objects.

Perhaps the most intriguing thing I came across was his “to do” list from yesterday.

It didn’t have much to do with actual “work” but it sure provides some fascinating insights into the weirdness that is Otto.

Otto’s Thursday “To Do” List

1. Breathe. Remember to Breathe

(I’m hoping this is a calming exercise and not just a basic reminder on one of the necessities of life, but with Otto, honestly, who knows?)

2. Write Friday’s “to do” list

(He wrote one thing. It was “Don’t get sick!”)

3. Compliment Clark on his shoes

(His Wednesday list had “tie,” and Tuesday had “breath.”)

4. Give “problem” files to Alan

(Mystery solved.)

5. Rat on Mildred

(WTF?)

6. Call Attorney/Dog Groomer/Masseuse/Orthodontist

(I’m hoping these aren’t all the same person.)

7. F1444-33/Ottoclock@ 3.00p.m. sharp!

(Just unnerving. If I hear ticking, I’m out of here.)

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sick days wedding hell
This morning, Nutless Tom told me he was getting married.

I said “Congratulations!”

He said “Thanks. You’ll be my best man, right?”

I laughed…

He looked… puzzled.

Up until this morning, I thought “Nutless Tom” was one of the few sane people here.

We’d had a couple of friendly conversations and gone out for a beer – once.

I had to end this – fast!

Me: Umm, Tom, uh, I… Nerk!!!

Tom: Thanks, pal. I knew I could count on my BFF, Alpo.

Me: BFF?

Tom: Sure. I got rid of all my old friends last year. They were dragging me down. You’re my go to guy now, Alan.

Me: Me? No! Look, I –

Tom: You’ll love Tracy.

Me: Tracy?

Tom: I met her last week. We’re getting married in two months. Is that too soon? The wedding theme is the 1920’s. How do you feel about top hats and spats?

Me: Tom, I barely know you.

Tom: Ha, ha! That’s funny, Alpo. You should use that in your speech.

Me: My what?

Tom: At the wedding. Your speech. Anyway, I’ll let you start thinking on bachelor party ideas. Nothing to raunchy, okay, buddy? But nothing too tame either.

Me: But–

Tom: We can talk tuxes at lunch. Think about top hats and spats. Oh! Plus you need to meet Tracy. And my family. And hers! We’re all having dinner next week. Actually there’s gonna be a bunch of upcoming dinners… So clear your calendar. I’m so happy! And the best part? She’s a Scientologist too!

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sick days omaha. 450JPG
I’m in Omaha with Clark and Otto at a “Windows and Doors” trade show.

Yes, it’s as exciting as it sounds.

My 12 hour drive here with Otto was informative. I learned that he’s one of those people that likes to read aloud the names of every street sign and billboard you pass on the road.

That never gets tiring.

I also learned that Otto gets carsick and can’t read a map. And that he likes to drum his fingers on the dashboard and hum along to talk radio. I learned his license has expired and I’ll be doing the entire drive here and back.

We’re sharing a room at a Super 8 Motel while Clark bunks down at a real hotel.

Otto snores. Oh, he also likes to leave the lights on while he sleeps. And the television.

Did I mention that I’m considering killing Otto?

We’ve seen our boss, Clark, once.

He took us to our booth at the convention centre, handed us each a stack of promotional material and then disappeared into the crowd.

So, for now, I smile, nod, and hand out fliers to conventioneers that seem more interested in finding a bar and a local prostitute than in reading product information about Hamish Industries.

But then again, that could just be the fatigue setting in.

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sick days my name is al
Since I’ve been working here, people have been trying to come up with a nickname for me.

I’ve tried convincing them not to. But the more I say “Just call me Alan” the more they insist on calling me anything but.

Their first choice was Alpo.

I said “I’m not really an ‘Alpo’ kind of a guy. Just call me Alan.”

They started calling me Alpo.

My nickname phenomenon kicked into overdrive the day I wore a blue shirt to work.

Farook started calling me Blue Boy.

I thought that was bad until Mike put a clever spin on it and started calling me Blue Balls.

In a surprising move of jocularity, Typhoid Mildred “improved” my new nickname to Blue Balls the Clown.

It stuck. But then, for some inexplicable reason, it started to get abbreviated.

First it was B.B. The Clown, then it was BB Clown Boy, then BB Clown and finally, BBC.

I didn’t mind BBC. I guess it showed.

It was back to Alpo…

A few hours later it was shortened to Al. That quickly turned into Alligator and by the end of the day I was known as Alligator Pie.

Then it was Pie Head, followed by The Pied Piper of Hamish, then The Pied Piper of Sales and then Knobby McSales Tool.

That all changed the day I showed up wearing ray bans.

Then I became Ray Gun Truitt.

About a week later that morphed into Alpha Ray Truitt. Somewhere along the way it became Alpha Truitt, then Alphagetti and finally… Alpo.

My name is Alan.

Unless you work at Hamish Industries.

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