: Job idiosyncreaddicts
There are two types of personality traits displayed by my fellow workers that can drive me literally to drink; the cup washer and the never look you in the eye person that passes you.
Let’s start with the dish washers with their plastic storage containers with last year’s permanent red spaghetti stain, ,travel mugs, coffee cups and their cutesy Pooh Bear cereal bowls. If there’s a communal kitchenette as you’re trying just to dunk your cold coffee, rinse once and be on your way, there they are standing guard over the sink. They’re scrubbing and scrubbing like they’re preparing for surgery.
The bubbles are literally floating above their head bursting forth in iridescent colors. For an instant you think they have a childhood bubble machine, but no they’re lost in some sort of soap euphoria. I have nothing against cleanliness but these people scare me at time with the glazed look of abject joy is plastered on their face. I cannot tell if this is their version of mentally escaping in their own kitchen away from all office nightmares or is this their opportunity or place to dream about a management position.
If they acknowledge my presence I’m met with a barely audible and weak “sorry”. I am treated like I am intruding on a private sexual affair. Still the scrubbing and multiple rinses continues. Are they that afraid of their own germs? Worse do they have a disease that has not been advertised and exploited yet and they’re trying to hide that from us. Sometimes there’s a bottle plunger that is missing half of the bristles, but to the “scrubbers” it’s like they just discovered the latest video game and they can’t seem to stop themselves from the endless plunging. Maybe they’re aggravated sewer workers.
The final question that I ponder is how cleanliness will be achieved if they’re using the same sponge and plunger as over 50 people for the last six months?
The other personality in the office circus is the one that never looks you in the eye when passing you. I am not talking about the comfortableness of being anonymous on the streets of NY. I’m talking bout people that work on the same floor or worse in the same department as you. Their desks are not close in proximity, but in these economic deprived times sometimes diverse department share common ground.
When they see you approaching they immediately avert their eyes and start staring at a blank space on a wall. They stare at that unknown blankness with the intensity a Mom at her newborn. The blankness is their only lifeline from making, heaven forbid eye contact with me. They’ll intensely stare at the wall, at the floor, at the candy machine that they have visited every day for the last 5 years and can confirm the selections have not changed. But now you’re there and they stare at the potato chips, pretzels, and cookies to see if the positions have been changed.
Then we have the cell phone reviewers. As they see you coming their eyes immediately become transfixed on the screen. Now you and I both know they have checked that small screen for the last ½ hour and the last count was 10 times. It’s like they’re playing the slot machine and keep chanting “come on boy one more scroll and I think they’ll be pass me and I’ll win the game of total aversion, avoidance, and seclusion.
Two types, One Workplace. Another day in paradise.