Creepy Pre-Bonding
Aug. 1st, 2000 09:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zenbroA lawyer in this building consistently commits several unpardonable sins.
The most recent is attempting to engage me in pointless conversation when I don't wish to be so engaged, particularly at 8:25 AM when I am officially NOT yet at work and there is clearly hot coffee and an unconsumed roll on my desk. I suppose it's inevitable that I will need to set aside my good graces for this one to clearly and decisively eradicate the virus of corporate pseudo-camaraderie from which I was so fortunate to escape five years ago.
Sample inoculants:
"S, I don't start working until 8:30. Please come back in five minutes."
"S, I'd like to finish my coffee and pastry before I even want to LOOK at you, much less acknowledge anything that comes out of your mouth."
"S, if you can't stay on the other side of my desk, two staplers and a knowledge of nerve points will ensure that you do."
Although he admires my equanimity ("Wow, nothing gets your blood pressure up, huh?!") it's really more of a sang-froid laced with equal parts personalized zen ("worm, you are irrelevant") and general misanthropic disdain ("you are the latest avatar of my daily torment. I am chained to a rock and I refuse you my liver"). I regard him as I would regard a fellow worker in hell suggesting I use a larger shovel.
Dorothy Parker was right. Hell really IS other people.
His second sin is attempting to assess my mood when I reject any such assessment, particularly from a stranger. I despise people who extol me to "cheer up" when uh, I'm not unhappy? Maybe I need a sign around my neck that says, "Please do not be offended by my lack of response to your hackneyed inquiries about my weekend. I am like this all the time and I enjoy it. Thank you."
I wish Wednesday Addams worked here. I would so adore her. We would have lunch, and she would kick my ass when necessary.
To be fair, I don't think S is evil, just annoying. I also get these weird pre-bonding vibes from him, like he's waiting for me to invite him for coffee and listen intently about his struggles with [fill-in-the-blank].
Or, he's a closeted gay and wants some. There's no other plausible explanation. Little would he realize that that in itself no longer assures automatic bonding in my book, since I have learned -- much to my chagrin -- that gay people can be as unimaginative as everyone else. Torpidity is not a special right, after all. My carefully crafted ennui-laced exterior is not having any effect, though, damn it. Shoo!!!
The most recent is attempting to engage me in pointless conversation when I don't wish to be so engaged, particularly at 8:25 AM when I am officially NOT yet at work and there is clearly hot coffee and an unconsumed roll on my desk. I suppose it's inevitable that I will need to set aside my good graces for this one to clearly and decisively eradicate the virus of corporate pseudo-camaraderie from which I was so fortunate to escape five years ago.
Sample inoculants:
"S, I don't start working until 8:30. Please come back in five minutes."
"S, I'd like to finish my coffee and pastry before I even want to LOOK at you, much less acknowledge anything that comes out of your mouth."
"S, if you can't stay on the other side of my desk, two staplers and a knowledge of nerve points will ensure that you do."
Although he admires my equanimity ("Wow, nothing gets your blood pressure up, huh?!") it's really more of a sang-froid laced with equal parts personalized zen ("worm, you are irrelevant") and general misanthropic disdain ("you are the latest avatar of my daily torment. I am chained to a rock and I refuse you my liver"). I regard him as I would regard a fellow worker in hell suggesting I use a larger shovel.
Dorothy Parker was right. Hell really IS other people.
His second sin is attempting to assess my mood when I reject any such assessment, particularly from a stranger. I despise people who extol me to "cheer up" when uh, I'm not unhappy? Maybe I need a sign around my neck that says, "Please do not be offended by my lack of response to your hackneyed inquiries about my weekend. I am like this all the time and I enjoy it. Thank you."
I wish Wednesday Addams worked here. I would so adore her. We would have lunch, and she would kick my ass when necessary.
To be fair, I don't think S is evil, just annoying. I also get these weird pre-bonding vibes from him, like he's waiting for me to invite him for coffee and listen intently about his struggles with [fill-in-the-blank].
Or, he's a closeted gay and wants some. There's no other plausible explanation. Little would he realize that that in itself no longer assures automatic bonding in my book, since I have learned -- much to my chagrin -- that gay people can be as unimaginative as everyone else. Torpidity is not a special right, after all. My carefully crafted ennui-laced exterior is not having any effect, though, damn it. Shoo!!!
