Colleague:
Are you coming to the Partners’ barbeque?
Me: No.
Colleague: Why?
Me: I don’t like driving north. It feels, wrong, kind of dirty, you know?
Cubical-buddy (interrupting): His wife said they already have something on that night.
Colleague: Why can’t you give a normal answer?
Me: Because my father took off when I was seven years old. But before he left he told me one thing - “Always fuck with them. Always.”
Colleague: Did he really say that?
Me: No.
Colleague: Did he really leave when you were a kid?
Me: Also no.
Me: No.
Colleague: Why?
Me: I don’t like driving north. It feels, wrong, kind of dirty, you know?
Cubical-buddy (interrupting): His wife said they already have something on that night.
Colleague: Why can’t you give a normal answer?
Me: Because my father took off when I was seven years old. But before he left he told me one thing - “Always fuck with them. Always.”
Colleague: Did he really say that?
Me: No.
Colleague: Did he really leave when you were a kid?
Me: Also no.
Me:
So, do you have a husband? Boyfriend?
Graduate that I am training: Sort of.
Me: So, girlfriend? We are all pretty open here, <Cubical-buddy > is a lesbian and <other work colleague> is more camp than a row of tents.
Cubical-buddy: No I’m not, don’t listen to him.
Me (whispering very quietly): She experiments.
Graduate: No, I am seeing someone but it is new, and he is three years older.
Me (attempting to look cool in front of a 20 year old): Older is awesome. My wife is 21 years older than me.
<months later at a team bonding fishing day which included spouses>
Graduate (after staring at my wife for an uncomfortably long time): You aren’t 20 years older than him!
<Wife glares at me>
Me: Yeh, my bad, I didn’t prepare you for that one. I am juggling so many balls I forget what lies I’ve told people.
Graduate that I am training: Sort of.
Me: So, girlfriend? We are all pretty open here, <Cubical-buddy > is a lesbian and <other work colleague> is more camp than a row of tents.
Cubical-buddy: No I’m not, don’t listen to him.
Me (whispering very quietly): She experiments.
Graduate: No, I am seeing someone but it is new, and he is three years older.
Me (attempting to look cool in front of a 20 year old): Older is awesome. My wife is 21 years older than me.
<months later at a team bonding fishing day which included spouses>
Graduate (after staring at my wife for an uncomfortably long time): You aren’t 20 years older than him!
<Wife glares at me>
Me: Yeh, my bad, I didn’t prepare you for that one. I am juggling so many balls I forget what lies I’ve told people.
Cubical-buddy:
Do you think <Partner> has had a boob job?
Me: Dammit, I know what you are doing. Stop it.
<after coming out of meeting with Partner>
Cubical-buddy: That was fast.
Me: She asked me to leave.
Cubical-buddy: Were you staring at her chest?
Me: I was staring at her chest.
Me: Dammit, I know what you are doing. Stop it.
<after coming out of meeting with Partner>
Cubical-buddy: That was fast.
Me: She asked me to leave.
Cubical-buddy: Were you staring at her chest?
Me: I was staring at her chest.
Partner:
Did you call <Manager of another team> a cunt?
Me: Before you start shouting, it was situationally relevant.
Partner (now shouting): How could the situation call for that?
Me: He was being a cunt.
Partner: Please don’t do that again, I now have to go and respond to an official complaint.
Me: Fine, but since I’m scratching your back, how about you do that thing for me. You know, the thing I like.
Partner: Fine <turning to Cubical-buddy> go make him a coffee.
Cubical-buddy: He doesn’t even drink coffee!
Partner: Just do it. I will be busy with HR for a while.
Me: Oh good, can you please ask them how my sexual harassment complaint is coming along?
Cubical-buddy: When were you sexually harassed?
Me: I was groped in front of the lifts yesterday.
Partner: Jesus, I just bumped into you and it was an accident.
<Cubical-buddy gasps dramatically>
Me: I know, right. Uninvited physical contact. Her boob rubbed right against my arm.
<Cubical-buddy gasps louder>
<Partner walks off swearing>
Me: Before you start shouting, it was situationally relevant.
Partner (now shouting): How could the situation call for that?
Me: He was being a cunt.
Partner: Please don’t do that again, I now have to go and respond to an official complaint.
Me: Fine, but since I’m scratching your back, how about you do that thing for me. You know, the thing I like.
Partner: Fine <turning to Cubical-buddy> go make him a coffee.
Cubical-buddy: He doesn’t even drink coffee!
Partner: Just do it. I will be busy with HR for a while.
Me: Oh good, can you please ask them how my sexual harassment complaint is coming along?
Cubical-buddy: When were you sexually harassed?
Me: I was groped in front of the lifts yesterday.
Partner: Jesus, I just bumped into you and it was an accident.
<Cubical-buddy gasps dramatically>
Me: I know, right. Uninvited physical contact. Her boob rubbed right against my arm.
<Cubical-buddy gasps louder>
<Partner walks off swearing>
Cubical-buddy:
Someone used some of my butter in the fridge.
Me: Communal fridge, it happens. Don’t let the man get you down.
<Me, after Cubical-buddy goes to a meeting, sends long winded firm-wide email out condemning the butter theft, reiterating that Cubical-buddy has five children she needs to feed and educate, which is difficult enough, but also her husband ran off with his secretary so she is doing it alone>
Colleague from another team to Cubical-buddy: Look, sorry, I took some of your butter and to make things right I’ve brought you some things, to help out a little.
<hands over a bag of assorted groceries to a confused Cubical-buddy before walking off sheepishly>
Cubical-buddy (for some reason only now noticing the email): God fucking dammit, you lying asshole. Now I need to give this back.
Me (looking through groceries): Fuck that, we got cookies!
Me: Communal fridge, it happens. Don’t let the man get you down.
<Me, after Cubical-buddy goes to a meeting, sends long winded firm-wide email out condemning the butter theft, reiterating that Cubical-buddy has five children she needs to feed and educate, which is difficult enough, but also her husband ran off with his secretary so she is doing it alone>
Colleague from another team to Cubical-buddy: Look, sorry, I took some of your butter and to make things right I’ve brought you some things, to help out a little.
<hands over a bag of assorted groceries to a confused Cubical-buddy before walking off sheepishly>
Cubical-buddy (for some reason only now noticing the email): God fucking dammit, you lying asshole. Now I need to give this back.
Me (looking through groceries): Fuck that, we got cookies!
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| This image was mislabeled, obviously. I'm going to allow it though. |
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