The Office

If you can't tell by now, I work in an office full of idiots with zero personalities. (And no, I don't fit in). Perhaps, it's because of the fact that I reside in an IT department may have something to do with it. For example, I had a brief conversation several months ago with a geek who's overweight body parallels his oversized ego. To break the ice, I initiated some small talk, and mentioned that I recently purchased a state of the art navigation unit. He immediately felt obligated to mention his new $5000 plasma screen. After spending what seemed like an eternity listening to me why his choice was better, I immediately saw my opportunity and ran like hell.

Over the course of the next several encounters with him in the hall, he immediately asks me about my navigation unit, which initially was a nice gesture to show that he remembered, but now seems so one dimensional as that is the only basis of our conversations. I typically respond back that I still like the unit, and the conversation stalls. After many long pauses, I usually make some excuse to "have to run."

My issue is why can't the imbecile come up with something original. Heck, I'd even appreciate if he asked me about the weather, baseball, rumor, anything but the damn navigation unit. It's times like these that make the old fashioned "how are you. . . fine," conversations seem so right.

What's Up? Or Across.

Summertime is here, time for all to show off our seasonally thin physiques. And while at the office this summer, grab your polo shirts and go!

But why, when we want to look our thinnest, do the shirt designers insist our polo shirts must have horizontal stripes? Don't they make one look fat? Even me in my... well, even me.

Long sleeve shirts never have horizontal stripes - always vertical. What's the deal with the polo shirts then? Finding vertical stripes on a polo shirt only happens when the summer help stacks the shirts sideways on the shelf!

Next up, boxer shorts.

Corporate Affairs

I work in a large Midwestern Fortune 50. Like large companies, we have our share of politics, but undeniably, we also have an unusual culture of enjoying being bland and about 20 years behind the times. Because we don't have a sense of urgency, we have become boring. Instead of meeting plan expectations, we meet to discuss who is celebrating the next 50 year anniversary. Average turnover is incredibly low, which on the surface hints at loyalty, but truly hides the truth of reality. We are at best, average, and likely sub-par in terms of talent. Which brings up my point. I feel that I am a "stellar performer," but feel that would be a hollow gloat. It's like claiming to be valedictorian in an inner city school. In other words, I feel like a shining star(fish) in a sea of mediocrity, and I am drowning fast. I need to find another ocean to crap on.

Gas Solution

As I was leaving work today, I came up with the most brilliant idea to solve our gas crisis. Okay, so I wasn't referring to gasoline, but flatulence. The most difficult issue is typically where do you go to "let it go?" I find it awkward to do so in the most obvious place, the rest room. Although it is expected, it is still an opportunity to giggle while your colleagues stand next to you by the urinal or in the adjacent stall. In fact, it is not uncommon for those with fine social upbringing to flush occasionally so as to disguise the aforementioned sound.

As I mentioned, I came across the ingenious idea as I was leaving to go home. It came to me like a lightning bolt as I exited through the revolving doors. Now, during the momentary spinning, I did notice that for that brief period that there was blissful silence. In fact, the person who was leaving with me was trying to continue the conversation, but lo and behold, I could not hear a thing! It was almost like the "cone of silence." I think I'll order the baked beans for lunch tomorrow. Of course, I may have to remain spinning for a while in the revolving door, but I pity the next one in line who wants to use the section of the revolving door. . .