Sitting behind a computer all day, my job cannot get any more lackluster, thank goodness. If my fantasy life became a reality, a normal work day in my sparkly high heels would involve multiple kiss scenes with the smoldering Chris Evans (must I say that was a hard verdict; it was a toss up between him, Ryan Reynolds... and another handful more), fly to France for a photo shoot with Vogue Paris, and a red carpet premiere hanging off of Ryan Gosling's arm. However, it is what it is, and I'm not any closer to becoming the next Scarlett Johansson than the person across from me--aloha, kind gentleman on his iPhone! So it's fair to say I have a lot of time on my hands at work if I can day dream about my life in a parallel universe.
However, despite work being so monotonous every single day, all it takes for a decent day to become a pleasanter (is that even a word? Granted, there's no red squiggly line underneath...) day is simply a nice, grateful 'thank-you' when I do something somebody asks for. It is a general protocol, is it not, when somebody hands me a glass of water or picks up my books on the ground? Such a small, small thing, but I guess some people never got the memo and that makes me question humanity some times.
For example, if you--and no, I don't mean you the reader, I mean you, as in the lump of manner-less people I am internally screaming at--ask me to print off your invoice for the month, DO NOT rip it out of my hands, giving me a paper cut in the process, and walk away without a 'thank-you' like I owe you my first born only for you to name him #hashtag. What you were supposed to do, like any other polite being, you gently take the papers out of my hand, smile a 100-watt smile (your teeth is blinding me), and say a gracious 'thank-you' because I just generously did what you asked without charging you $10 dollars for my service.
Maybe because I sit behind a 23'' monitor all day that people think I'm invisible, so they do things that should only be done in the privacy of their own homes. I'm not talking to the extreme of stripping down to naked flesh, because there is a law against that here, but the things people do brings up the question of basic etiquette. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for being comfortable in your own skin at home, literally, but definitely not when there is a twenty-something sitting behind that booming piece of technology over there whom I can't see because her head is the size of a pea. However, the surprise and embarrassment that people exhibit after I make my presence known undeniably puts the cherry on top of a monotonous day. Or as I said above, makes my day pleasanter.
I have compiled a list of things I wanted to say to the offenders. Being the generous person I am, I wanted to leave them with a shred of their pride so I did not vocalize the plethora of head shaking I was doing inside my head.
To the lady who was picking her nose: You dug in there quite good, didn't you? You looked like you really enjoyed it. Well, I want to say, thank you for not snacking on your little treasure, but next time, do use the napkins and garbage can that we provide instead of discreetly wiping it under the table. Because, well, it's plain nasty and I'm sad to have witnessed it all.
To the lady who enjoyed clipping and filing her nails: I have nothing against keeping the nails clean. In fact, it's better if you do, at home, in your own washroom. Or at least in our washroom if you must. Yes, I know we're in a silent room, but the sound of your nails being clipped is not music to my ears. Nor is the sound of your nails being filed. Please, just don't.
To the gentleman who had his hand down his pants: My man friend once told me guys often need to adjust their position. I completely understand why, because, let's be real, things can get mighty uncomfortable once in a while. I mean, my bra needs some adjusting sometimes. So, I have decided to let this pas--you did not just touch my magazine. Hand sanitizer, sir, HAND SANITIZER!
To the lady who used my magazine to scratch her back: To be honest, I don't know where that magazine has been. But now I can add 'back scratching' to the list. It's liberating, isn't it? That little itch just yelling at you louder and louder for relief. The feels. However, in case you didn't know, magazines are for reading. I'll repeat: magazines are for reading. Now flakes of your skin is all over it. Thanks a bunch.
To the lady who got a thrill of her toes: No, a lady will not take her shoes and socks off to scratch her toes, or in between the toes. I don't care if you get a thrill from it, but FYI, this is a professional office building, not your couch. And nobody said your feel smells like roses. At least don't tou--you touched my magazine. I'm billing you for a new stack of magazines. Also, Kim Kardashian doesn't like it when people touch her face after scratching their feet.
Ladies and gents, please have a little more decency and withhold distasteful disturbances until you're in your own home. If you simply cannot wait, at least check to see if I'm staring at you with disdain from behind the computer before commencing such behaviour. Because I can, and I will, black list you if I catch you red-handed next time.
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