Thursday, October 23, 2008
I work with a person that I am having a bit of trouble getting along with….
As a matter of fact, I would like to stab him in the neck and watch his lifeblood pump out and seep all over the carpet until he shutters, shits his pants and falls down dead.
Usually I save this emotion for ex boyfriends and ex husbands so this guy must be really fucking irritating.
Let’s just call him Dickhead to protect his identity and honor.
Now Dickhead has been with my company for over five years. In all the time, I’ve never liked him but he does his job, brings money into the business and for that, I can ignore just about anything.
I don’t know if lately I am crankier than usual or Dickhead is more annoying than usual but every time he appears at my office door, I die a little inside.
He is the type of person that knows everything. I mean EVERYTHING. If there is a situation that he overhears that has nothing to do with him, he’ll be scampering as fast as his size 11 Pathmark Pick A Pair specials will carry him to offer his personal suggestion of how the issue should be handled.
Which is bad enough.
But without being asked, he’ll get others involved. Before I know it I have this guy’s wife (who apparently also knows everything) on the line with a list of people to contact to solve my “problem”.
The one that has nothing to do with him, her or the fucktards she is trying to get me to contact.
Dickhead is also the type of person that makes sure he shows up at every casual after work get together while buttering up to the CEO and the CEOs baby mama. He actually advised me recently to start kissing baby mama’s ass too because they are planning on marrying.
He actually said “butter up” as if his ass kissing tactics were normal and he is ever so proud of his skills.
Recently we had words regarding a sarcastic comment he made about one of my gay employees. Instead of discussing it rationally, Dickhead left a note on my chair stating that he wants to request a meeting with me and the CEO.
So he can tell on me.
I denied his request.
He can whine alone, I don’t have the time or patience for his shit.
Since I probably shouldn’t stab him to death, I have finally decided that I must clip the wings of this precious little butterfly.
For his own health and safety.
Posted by Christine at 5:54 PM