For those of you at the office, we know that life between those padded cubicle walls is pretty hardcore. It could be likened to life on the streets but with less bullets and more printers that have no paper.
The go-not-to person. This one was sitting in a desk while construction workers were still screaming
about the concrete being wet. Sitting aperch many years of "being there", they rose through the
ranks by pure "not-job searching". This person, while touting more time in the building than in a
normal marriage, honestly has no clue. Their only true achievement seems to form the perfectly
shaped butt impression in their chair. Unfortunately for you and everyone else, they are a mindless
drone. Even though the process of diffusion should somehow imbue them with knowledge,
they seem to be an impermeable wall.
One man, two sides, three testicles (according to rumor), this man always knows what is going
on way before anyone else. He leads a double life, in one he works as a mild mannered desk
holder-downer, the other he makes super secret promises not to tell that require a pinky finger.
He lives in your corner, knowing all the loose lipped higher ups and their desperate needs of a
twinkie fix something fierce. Who knew about Sam getting fired 4 hours beforehand... he's THAT guy.
His powers of "know-having" and "secret-keeping" know no boundaries.
They are one of the most feared but nicest people at the office. They have only one operating mode; observe and report. Quietly watching you like you're the birthday cake at a fat kid's birthday party. They wait for everyones mistakes and run to the corner office like they are a constestant on the Price is Right, and the big boss is Bob Barker... but without all that molesting stuff. Slowly amassing intel on your daily activities of Cracked reading and online Sudoku playing. You're also pretty sure they have a graph of your bathroom breaks.
The bad news is that most bosses love having a lap dog.
To give you idea of this, imagine your company as a large reptilian beast, and every member of
management is a head on this beast. Each head is an idividual and has its own thoughts and ideas
of how to move forward. the body keeps the heads tethered by necks so that the only way to move
forward is to make sure the entire thing is working together. You... you're a toe, every head thinks
it knows what you are supposed to be doing and all of them are telling you to do something. One
boss thinks you're supposed to be generating a depriciation of staff over receding account volume
report, while the other is pretty damn sure you're the guy who replinishes the empty toilet paper rolls.
As it turns out your job is completely non-related to either task, but you still have an obligation to
follow orders because of that whole "insubordination" thing.
This is the person who lives their life through a complete delusion of grandeur based on the idea that
they are or will be your boss. Desperately attempting to prove their worth, they will demean the hell out
of you to show how boss-worthy they are. They work right beside you doing the same damn thing
you do... just less of it.
While it seems "work" is what they were supposed to be there for, snaggin' some strange seems
to be their only motive to show up. They stroll by the ladies expecting a panty deluge if they flash a smile.
His worthlessness seems to have no boundaries as he is waaaaaay too busy to take your call on
account of all those cases of the "boners" the new girl has been giving him lately. While we do
applaude a man for "gettin' it", when it comes to him wanting a series of high fives afterwards...
yeah we're pretty sure we don't wanna know where that hand has been... and why does it have
a slight bovine scent... what did he do fingerbang a McDouble... gross.
Living in the past where he was actually worth something, he brags about things that happened
before all this "paperless" stuff happened. You know that guy, makes sure to save his bowel
movements until he gets to work so he can take an hour off hiding behind his IBS.
He spends his day telling about the good old days when accounts were recorded on cards and you had to walk to work, occasionally engaging a bear in combat. Guaranteed to use the "hunt and peck" method on the keyboard that just fucking makes you want to go over to his damn keyboard and type his email to Hustler yourself. While he might have had some value to the company back in the day when bread didn't come in that fancy "sliced" variety that seems to be all the rage nowadays, his only use seems to be keeping floor tiles from floating away.
No matter what is happening there is a terrible thing on the horizon, unfortunately its true, and
they know. Which makes admitting they are right so so much harder. Management announces
they are acquiring a new surveilence system for "security" purposes, Negative-Nancy over here
thinks its to see how many smoke breaks people take. You ask this person how they're doing, they
will hold your ear hostage for 15 minutes explaing their various medical conditions and how the
company insurance isn't good enough. Speaking of which, if the company decides to switch
insurance providers, you might as well just quit. The groaning and moaning about how "No one
accepts this insurance", will make it seem like you are in "Ground Hog Day", except days actually
do pass, and its still not advisable to allow any animal drive your car, even if its that loveable
Toonces. They constantly hold pity parties and not so much that you get an invite, but get sucked
into a black hole of despair that would make putting down puppies look fun.