So I’m sitting at my desk and I hear D coming.
D — you know, to protect the identities of everyone involved and, not to put too fine a point on it, my job — is something of a loud mouth. Okay, not something of a loudmouth, he’s a blathering loud mouth. He’s born and bred in The Big Sh!tty, and that means thick accent, thicker skull, big bones, bigger mouth. Typical guy from around these parts.
D holds himself as a comedian. Most other team members hold him in contempt. Many a complaint about his volume and propensity for meandering around while being loud have fallen on deaf management ears (because they keep saying they “tune him out”), but what’re you gonna do? Guy’s been here damn near ten years. I suppose that makes him valuable…to someone.
M is the pricing manager for our group. She’s dedicated, hard-working, but also scatter-brained in some ways and unable to focus consistently. Bright and fast on her feet, but also born and bred around here, and while she’s not necessarily typical, her and D clash sometimes and it can get pretty loud.
So, I hear D coming. I always cringe when I do. If he’s coming to see me, I can feel my IQ drop 30 points and it might take a few minutes to get back to normal. On second thought, maybe it never gets back to normal and that’s my problem lately. Whatever, he didn’t come to my office anyway.
Me: Oh please don’t come in here, please don’t come in here, pleasepleaseplease…
He went to M’s office, two doors down from me.
I hear him go in, without knocking to let her know he’s there, and he starts spewing.
D: “Hey, M, don’t mess with my head like that, y’knowwhaddamean? Not like it’s hard to do or nothin’ like that.” (All sentences must end on a preposition here. Unwritten law.)
Me (thinking): Wocka wocka wocka. Move over, Fozzy Bear.
I notice I have this attitude more and more with D. I don’t know why, but he’s started to grate on me in the last few months. I wish I knew why — I have to work with him.
D: “So, you gonna get dat done right quick? So I can get the order done?”
M: “YOU DO THIS ALL THE TIME!”
M: “DAMMIT, D, ALL THE TIME! Why do you wait until the last minute to ask for it? Why?!”
D: “What?! JDT!”
Me: “You do it all the time.”
M: “HA! Thank you!”
D: (Laughs even though we’re serious) “Okay, okay, but I need it anyway.”
M: “Go. Get out of here. I’ll do it when I have a chance.”
D: “Yeah, okay, thank you too much.”
D walks away, but I hear him turn around and come back.
D: “Oh, I forgot, I gotta have it at tree pm today.”
Me: Tree PM? What, this guy use trees as a sundial or something?
M: “D! DAMN YOU, IT’S 2:45!”
D: “So what? You got fifteen minutes, right? Thanks!”
Poor M. I couldn’t do her job day-in and day-out on a bet.
Thank the Lord I don’t have to.