There’s a reason I stay at my desk and don’t talk much.

The great thing about starting a new job is all of the people watching. Everybody is new and interesting, and foibles stand out. Basically, you haven’t had time to become numb to the weirdness.

At Globotron, there’s the coworker who strides – not walks, but strides – like a confident hooker. She’s mean, and yesterday she had her skirt tucked into the back of her underwear. I saw her across the room and didn’t have the opportunity to help her out. I’m assuming she figured out there was a reason she was feeling a draft.

There’s the lady we called Jumpsuit Judy for the 3 days she worked at Globotron. She might want to consider laying off the shoulder pads and icy blue eyeshadow.

Then, there’s the maintenance guy who looks like a hunky, Hispanic Freddy Mercury.


Maintenance Mercury is always smiling, and I looooove him. Every time I see him, I want to break out into the “heyyyyyeheheheheheheh” part of “Another One Bites the Dust.”

Or at least greet him with some song lyrics.

See him pushing a broom? “You work hard … every day of your life! You work ’til you ache in your bones!”

Grab the elevator door so he can get on? “You’ve paid your dues … time after time. You’ve done your sentence, but committed no crime.”

Pretty much any occasion? “Fat bottom girls, they make the rockin’ world go ’round!”

I can’t help but wonder what the world would be like if we all said exactly what we think. I would either be in prison or lauded as a great creative thinker. Probably the former.

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