Wednesday, March 23, 2011
I'm at work and all I want is a diet Coke. Just one little bottle of diet Coke. So I take my buck twenty-five and mosey into the break room. I'm standing in front of the vending machine when this dude saddles up and says in some funky accent, "Can I bother you?" What? Where am I? Am I wearing a mini-skirt? Glitter on my eyes? Is Okenfold pumping through the speakers? "No. No, you cannot bother me." And he apologizes and steps aside. I'm pissed, but instead of punching that guy in the face and running away, I'm forced to stand there and wait for my soda to drop. I'm pissed. I'd consider going to HR, except I don't know who the fuck this guy is. Who let this nutjob in the building? I'm assuming he's in one of the new training classes because I haven't seen him before, and with manners like that, I can't assume he'll be here long. I'm assuming by your funky English that this is not your first language. And from that I can deduce that this is not your primary culture. In which case, here's a tip: Don't hit on people you work with, Dickmouth!