File this blog post as another in a long, neverending series about how the people I work with are disgusting sacks of ass in a zoo run by blind midgets.
I do my job well. I take pride in my work when I do something that is important. This stuff I’m working on is important. On some level. To someone. (Not me.)
When I get stuck, I ask questions. I’m not ashamed to say, “I dont get it.”
With this project I’m currently working on, if I have a question, I have to ask Stinky Smelly Man.
Stinky Smelly Man hasnt always been stinky and/or smelly. He used to be just… annoying. But, as happens every year, the temperatures shift, and summer arrives. And with highs in the 90’s come funky smells. And thus Annoying Guru Dude transformed into Stinky Smelly Man.
I was first alerted to Stinky Smelly Man’s metamorphosis during the short training I had in May. I sat next to him because I knew who he was and wanted to maybe look smarter than I am (not hard in a software training class with geriatrics). On about the 2nd day of class, he raised his hand and I knew then what stench awaited those who exhume dead bodies.
Since then I’ve tried to avoid him at all costs, but I cant anymore. I actually need help, now that I’m back to work and doing my part on this project. I’ve asked others what I should do to either encourage him to bathe daily or utilize some sort of deodorant. Some folks recommended talking to either my or his supervisor or even leaving a can of AXE with a bow and a note saying, “Thanks.” on his desk. So far, I can tell you that I’ve invested in an air freshener.
Today he’s come around my cube, helping me out with the next, slightly complicated, steps in this epic project. The air freshener definitely helps out, but I have to actively wiggle it around my cube in order for his smell to dissipate. Also, hitting him up for help in the morning does wonders. He still stinks, but in the morning he hasnt yet hit his wretchful peak.
So, folks… what do you think I should do, in the long term? Because if I get picked to go overseas for these projects, and I have to sit on a plane with him next to me, pregnant or not I just might claw his face off so that blood stops pulsing through his pores.
Too harsh? Puh-leeze.