Describe a character from your workplace

[MgoBlue-LightSpecial]

Obviously some of the more...interesting people you will meet in life are contractors. Despite the inherently gay name, Lance the painter is far from it. I've only known this guy for about a year, but throughout this time, I've heard stories of near-death-experiences and sexual debauchery that would make Moorese recoil with awkwardness. Perhaps that's just because the stories are a bit more impactful when you hear and see them told live, with the theatrics in full detail only in a way this guy can perform them.

He's not too old, bordering on late 30s I'd say. The dude's already got dentures. They display an impressive colorful hybrid of brown and green. The green infiltrates the cracks of his teeth like southern moss, and the brown mostly dwells on the outer surface of his front teeth; which makes me think of the bootie lover, and is inevitably the part you wind up staring at like a TTB tree wreck whenever he opens his mouth and speaks. But yeah, you heard it right, this guy's hygienic priority levels are so low he can't even take care of his fake teeth. This is the hilariously ironic part of it all.

He's a character fit for a quirky movie role when you couple the cinder-esque like chompers with his struggling voice. He claims he has been chain smoking since he was seven years old. Even if I pegged him for a pathological liar, I'd still believe that tidbit. I put the over/under on him breaking out one of those voice boxes at about five years, and the smart money'd be on the under. It sounds like he has a permanent case of phlegm build-up in his throat. Actually, when he speaks, it sounds more like Foreskin's wife has built a fortress of fat around his neck and every vocal squeel is a cry to have her Ballpark Franks released from his upper regions.

The first time I ever met him, we did not have a conversation about how we were doing, or about how the weather was that day. I believe the first phrase I ever heard from his infected maw was, "It's all fun and games until the hooker pulls her dick out." Oh, and the hookers this man does love.

He does quality work, AND he's cheap. Of course, when it comes to contractors you'll RARELY ever get the three attributes you're looking for: quality work, cheap, and reliable. You're always happy to get two out of three. So what's the one factor Lance's shortcoming is? You guessed it...reliability. He works his ass off for about 2-3 months, then he'll go on a coke binge for 2-3 weeks, never to be seen or heard from. His phone goes straight to voicemail, and when he comes back, he's dog-ass tired for a couple days.

Of course, a coke binge always involves a bevy of hookers. When he parties, he likes to orgy it up. But here's the kicker...he actually pays money for the fatties. Hoggin' isn't a minor league, take-what-you-can-get activity for this guy. He seeks them out like jtr would seek out a young hard body at a singles convention, only to settle for a hug when it's time to close the deal.

But this guy doesn't settle for hugs. He puts bitches in the hospital. Or so he says. And it's tough not to take the man semi-seriously given the passion and fervor he puts into his anecdotes. Tall, with patches of hair on his face, and real wiry, the man is ALWAYS coated in a layer of flat paint, low luster and stainkill. I swear, this is how the guy ROLLS 24/7. I've never seen him anywhere NOT coated in layers of flakey whiteness.

Perhaps one of the better stories I've heard was how he was robbed at gunpoint, and told the dude to fuck off. Then there was a struggle, and Lance was shot but survived. This one was a little hard to believe up until I saw the gun shot wound. The bullet had entered through his shoulder and came out of his side.

He was back to work in two days.

[Det. Jimmy McNulty]

Unless it involves dead nogs or a book of matches, I'm not reading all of that.

[Capt. Sig]

We had a guy on the ship who talked that much. Finally we had a blanket party and after that he just did his job ok.

But pretty good story, if ya got some time on your hands.

[bbqjones]

our finisher is a guy named larry. i call him larry boy because my son watchyes some bible cartoon that has that characteseer. i keep telling my wife (wssoseo gonna leave me any day_ ++_) the charachtechteter is from a bible movie guyu and im pretty sure its going to be. okay so larry boy is indian and i didnt realize it for a long time because he tollkd m e he was from trinidad. hes frp, trinidad so i thought he was an island black. but he is indian. hes a really good guy and likes jayz and has a bald head to 0 like me.

my boss is a total prick so im not going to talk about how i awiwaa w alked into him whilst he was taking a dumb.


war larry boy

war me*


*best father ever.

[pron]

i keep telling my wife (wssoseo gonna leave me any day_ ++_)

I'm curious to see a pic of your wife, I've read several of your comments about her.

[indyfrisco]

MGO,

I think you just described Dins with a few inaccuracies.

[Dinsdale]

MGO,

I think you just described Dins with a few inaccuracies.

Bullshit.

I'm sporting my original set of 32 teeth, generally in good working order.

I haven't been on a nasal bender in years.

I've never paid for sex(directly, anyway...you know what I'msayin), and if I did, I'm sure I'd spend the extra few bucks on the non-Conduct models.


Actually, I think if you look in the dictionary under "loser," one of the entries reads "a dude who has to pay for pussy even though he's holding a grip of blow."

[RumpleForeskin]

Vickie is our accountant here at the office. She is a VERY unattractive tall overweight in her mid 50's pasty and smelly female who wheres these God-awful red wigs that makes Krusty the Clown's lettuce look standard among white-collared workers. She has been divorced for several years and has an only son who just recently got married and now is living with his wife in a newly built home.

Now, Vickie lives in an apartment all by her lonesome with no friends or family to hangout with on a regular basis. We here at work are her only social outlet in life which makes Monday's really tough to approach when she has been cooped up in that one-bedroom for more than 2 days with absolutely no one to talk to. When that rhetorical question, "How was your weekend?" is repeatedly asked to everyone on Monday all over the nation, I don't think anyone's story can top Vickie's five minute take on complete minutia. Then, the next 10 minutes she tells us the same story about 3 or 4 different ways. I'm not kidding about utter bullshit storytelling. For example:

She spent 10 minutes telling me about these 2 dirty spots she found on her blouse that she found after she just picked the blouse up from the cleaners. She took the blouse to the cleaners on a Saturday and argued with them until she was blue in the face and received a refund of $1.99 + tax. She no longer will use those people anymore because they messed up on 1 blouse. She then proceeded to tell me the same story in 3 different variations.

I get one or two of these stories every Monday morning.

[Goober McTuber]

What a fascinating story, Rumple. Please die.

[RumpleForeskin]

What a fascinating story, Rumple. Please die.

Must you?

[Raydah James]

What a fascinating story, Rumple. Please die.

RACK

[Dinsdale]

She is a VERY unattractive tall overweight in her mid 50's pasty and smelly female

Does she do blow?

If so, MGO might be able to hook her up with a stud.

[RumpleForeskin]

Does she do blow?

She needs to get plugged in order to get her ass to unwind somewhat.

She calls herself a "strong Christian", but once a month she'll blow all of her extra cash on the slots at the casinos in Louisiana. That doesn't seem to be the "strong Christian" thing to do IMO. Who the fuck drives 2 1/2 hours by themselves just to hit the slot machines for a few hours and then come back home?

[OCmike]

Does she do blow?

She needs to get plugged in order to get her ass to unwind somewhat.

She calls herself a "strong Christian", but once a month she'll blow all of her extra cash on the slots at the casinos in Louisiana. That doesn't seem to be the "strong Christian" thing to do IMO. Who the fuck drives 2 1/2 hours by themselves just to hit the slot machines for a few hours and then come back home?

My Grandfather, who was a very "strong Christian" smoked two packs a day of Pall Malls and enjoyed a nice stiff drink or two just about every night (he died from his second heart attack at 53...shocker). Just because you're a Christian doesn't mean you don't have vices.

I guess she's not allowed to attend any rated-R movies either...

What a maroon.

[RumpleForeskin]

I wouldn't go that far, but you are right...there are a lot of people out there considered good followers who have their weaknesses. She passes judgement on others more than anyone I know when the water cooler talk revs up in the late afternoons, so I guess thats why I am a little harsh on her gambling addiction.

You know how Baptists get down here in the south, so the definition of a "strong Christian" could vary depending on your religion and location, no?

[Dinsdale]

You know how Baptists get down here in the south, so the definition of a "strong Christian" could vary depending on your religion and location, no?

No. The definition of a "strong christian" is the same everywhere...

If you stand up to your youthful brainwashing, begin to think for yourself, and leave the church...

you're a "strong christian."

[PSUFAN]

I suppose you can call yourself a Christian, and:

-be adverse to bathing, thus smelling strong
-be physically fit, thus strong
-be adverse to thought processes of any kind, thus strong in unexplored "belief"
-have a running sore of a mouth, and thus claiming anything, including strength

Guess what - it's all good! See, christianity just means, "I expect to make up my moral settings according to my convenience or desires, and I want fucking credit for it".

So this described reddened pig can easily claim to be a Strong Christian. She need only have a disdain for inquiry and a yen for handing her money over.

[MadRussian]

So whens the wedding for you 2 faggots?

[RumpleForeskin]

Guess what - it's all good! See, christianity just means, "I expect to make up my moral settings according to my convenience or desires, and I want fucking credit for it".

So this described reddened pig can easily claim to be a Strong Christian. She need only have a disdain for inquiry and a yen for handing her money over.

Exactly. I try to avoid those conversations at all costs with coworkers, but other peeps in the office can't leave that subject at their church doors. The crimson shebeast makes it known to others what is considered right and wrong or good and bad. That is why I do interpret a little bit of hypocrisy on her part when her extra cash isn't going to something more useful.

[Dinsdale]

That is why I do interpret a little bit of hypocrisy on her part when her extra cash isn't going to something more useful.

She's just trying to parlay it into a bigger wad of tithe.

Then again, from the sound of it, her chances are even worse than a camel when it comes to passing through the eye of a needle(another verse from the chapter of the Bible known as Optionals).

[PSUFAN]

I used to work with this mental mutant in the good old world of IT.

This kid was the spitting image of Napoleon Dynamite, prior to the release of that movie. He was a geek who had a strong command of Technobabble. He was a developer who had some pretty strong experience...but upon examination, he had left a trail of woe - shitty sites, screaming clients/customers, just an unrelieved shit smear across the landscape.

All of that was of no interest to our boss, though - who paid him double the salary of our most senior developer, and who encouraged and coddled him at every turn.

Let's call him Tim.

Tim lived with another geeky dude. They would go out to bars and get utterly plowed, and then whoever was around was expected to rickshaw them to their shithole. Personally, I generally left whatever setting I found them in, asap - their presence was unacceptable to me even while they were relatively sober.

Our company gave a big presentation to a bunch of state official-types. We demoed our software for those fucks - all of which was built by a few of us, none by Tim. Yet, it was framed as His Creation. Our boss even claimed that this Tim had "created" the development language PHP - a bitterly laughable claim. There were 150-200 folks in attendance - maybe most of them swallowed these kids of lies easily enough, but being associated with it really bothered me a great deal. We had actually busted our asses on our product, it was pretty good, and we hated seeing it represented not for what it was, but as the Greatest Thing Ever, doing Whatever you Wanted, authored by the haloed and hovering Tim, who nightly pressed fistfuls of company benjis that should have been earmarked for us into bar skank tipjars.

Then, it turned out, this Tim had found a program that allowed him to read all incoming email as it was delivered, and he started posting the contents to his unspeakably lame geek message board for his slovenly sebacused peers to chuckle at in high-pitched titters.

So, he spent his workdays reading his newsfeeds, playing Warcraft or whatever, while the rest of us clacked out code so that our paychecks could keep coming and our families could eat.

The first client interaction that was assigned him was simple enough - implement an inventory management overview system. He had the code patched together from our company library, and there was little actual work for him to do - he had to interact with the client, show them how to use the software, and answer their questions.

He never got past the first step. He fucked things up so bad that the client made sure that no one in that half of the state would react with anything but disgust at the approach of our boss for a number of years - all over a minuscule little project that could have been completed in an afternoon, or at VERY most, a week.

Over the course of two years, this kid drew the biggest salary by far, and he became progressively aggressive and intractable, as he moved past the technobabble stage and his numerous human flaws became shockingly apparent. When at long last our boss finally asked for his resignation, and months had passed by, we found that among the compensation offered Tim was a healthy percentage of our company.

The boss utterly sold out for this shithead, who did nothing in return but make his name mud, run through his money like KC Paul zips through Baker's Cheese, and totally and irredeemably alienate the other good folks who tired hard to make something of the company, who sacrificed and sweated and toiled so that they could be viewed as freaks that worked for That Company.

So this character, whose "working" hours were also spent receiving calls from creditors of all descriptions, continues to inspire a little revulsion in a number of us, even though I personally am no longer with that company.

[Dinsdale]

Tim lived with another geeky dude. They would go out to bars and get utterly plowed, and then whoever was around was expected to rickshaw them to their shithole. Personally, I generally left whatever setting I found them in, asap - their presence was unacceptable to me even while they were relatively sober.

Dude sounds like an asshole.


Sin,

[RumpleForeskin]

There is a "Tim" in just about every department of every company in the states.

[RadioFan]

Good post, Dave.

I think we've all worked with a "Tim" at one time or another. And if I'm not mistaken, most IT guys have anywhere from a sliver to a big chuck of "Tim" in them. Speaking of which ...

[obligitory RACK for the SissyCrown reset] Dins. [/RACK]


As to the topic of this thread, a character, from my workplace in the past would definitely be this guy named Jose, whom everybody simply called "Oaxaca" (pronounced wah-ha'-ca), because that was where he was from.

I worked with this guy when I was in high school, working weekends at a family-owned Mexican restaruant in San Antonio. I was the only white dude working there, and this guy had me in stitches all the time.

First off, the guy worked like 80 hours a week, on minimum wage (It was $3.25 at the time), bussing tables, doing dishes, sweeping floors, setting tables in the morning, helping the bartenders by sqeezing cases of limes for margaritas ... whatever needed to be done. I worked at this place for 5 years starting when I was 15 and I saw a lot of Mexicans come and go, most of whom couldn't handle the work and/or the pressure of 100 tables, with a live band on the weekends, and a line going outside the door.

Not only did this guy do everything that was asked of him, he was never in a bad mood. EVER.

He's one of the few people I've met in my life who was never down, about anything, no matter what time of day or night. He didn't speak a lot of English, and I learned quite a bit of Spanish from him ... hell, probably more than I learned from my high school teacher at the time.

Part of his secret was practical jokes and giving people shit, even the bosses. In the middle of rush hour on a Friday night, dude would take a jalepeno, tie it to a leftover string from a stack of tableclothes, then tie the string (with the jalepeno hanging down) to the back of fat waitresses, as they picked up big trays of food and went out of the prep/serving area between the dining room and the kitchen. So fat Mary or fat Belize would go walking out serving entrees with a string of jalapeno hanging from her ass, or, in one instance, a coffee filter hat on her head.

Those are just two of the things that had me in stiches, but the guy did a lot of other funny-assed shit that just doesn't translate well to describing in words. Oaxaca used to invite me down to his city, and tell me in Spanish we'd get drunk and live like kings, but I never was able to take him up on it. I still wonder where that dude is, and if he's still in a perpetual good mood, as always.

[Dinsdale]

Uhm...wouldn't that have been my "original set of 20 teeth"?

[Invictus]

I'm sporting my original set of 32 teeth, generally in good working order.

you still have your baby teeth?

Persons who don't have all of their own original equipment, teeth or otherwise, should always leave jabs like this one alone.

[Message from God]

She passes judgement on others more than anyone I know

[Terry in Crapchester]

Good topic.

One legal secretary in particular stands out. Call her Mary. Mary was just about the worst legal secretary on the face of the planet. In hindsight, I should've been tipped off about her before I even started working here. She called me to set up an interview. I didn't recognize the street name, so I asked her for directions. The question completely confused her, and I wound up finding directions on the internets.

Anyway, a few more incidents after I started working here . . .

I gave Mary a dictation tape to type.

Mary: Is this criminal law? I don't know criininal law.
Me: Mary, it's a letter. I dictated it word for word. Type it up the way I dictated it and it'll be fine.

When I first started working here, I gradually acquired a few files to work on. When it got to the point where there were too many files to keep on the desk, I cleared out space in a filing cabinet so I could keep them there. We have a file numbering system, but it's easier for me to remember clients' names, so I had the files alphabetized by clients' last names. Mary walks into my office and starts going through the filing cabinet, whereupon she says, "We can't have Tom's files in with your files," and promptly proceeds to rearrange all files. Fortunately, there were only about a dozen or so files in there at the time, so it wasn't that hard to put them back. If she did that to me now, though, I'd throttle her.

Mary also, for some reason, got this idea that I was a computer expert. Sad thing was that compared to her, I was. One day she walks into my office, whereupon the following exchange occurred.

Mary: My computer just froze. What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?
Me: Mary, turn your computer off. Wait about 15 seconds, then turn it back on again. Hopefully, that'll fix the problem. If not, we'll have to call somebody.
Mary: Oh, I don't want to do that.

I don't remember what my response was to that. Maybe nothing. I do know that I just about threw up my hands when I heard her say that.

Primarily she was the secretary for the senior partner at our firm. His practice is almost exclusively matrimonial law. In New York, there is a statutory provision in matrimonial cases whereby a party can request that his/her spouse pay his/her counsel fees, or a portion thereof. The procedure to request it is called a quantum meruit application. Despite working for the senior partner for several years, Mary would repeatedly come to me and ask me how to spell quantum meruit, as well as what it means.

Mary was in her early 60's, married but childless. Her husband was a major executive at Ford, and made quite a bit of money. Mary didn't need to work, although I suspect her husband wanted her out of the house and not shopping all day.

Apparently she had worked for a number of years at Chrysler in their products liability department. I suppose that if one were looking to hire a legal secretary and received a resume from Mary without knowing who she was, the resume would look pretty impressive. The real thing, however, was anything but.

[MgoBlue-LightSpecial]

I didn't recognize the street name, so I asked her for directions. The question completely confused her, and I wound up finding directions on the internets.

Hate to say it Terry, but you pretty much KYOA on that deal. Asking a woman for directions would be like grilling KCPaul on proper dieting methods.

But if you REALLY want their heads to explode, ask them if you should go North/South, East/West.

]

[Terry in Crapchester]

Another Mary story, somewhat indirect.

I'm sitting downtown in court with a partner in my firm, waiting for our case to be called.

Him: So Terry, what do you think of Mary?
Me: Uhhh, uhhh, uhhh, uhhh, . . .
Him (figuring out that he had inadvertently put me on the spot): She's a nice lady, but she doesn't handle adversity very well.
Me (grateful for the lifeline): Yeah, that sounds about right.

[War Wagon]

Hate to say it Terry, but you pretty much KYOA on that deal. Asking a woman for directions would be like parking outside a titty bar and heckling the patrons.

FTFY

Terry asks his wife for directions on how to take a piss. He still hasn't figured out if it's better to stand or sit. The only thing he knows for sure is not to leave the seat up.

But if you REALLY want their heads to explode, ask them if you should go North/South, East/West.

No shit.

I don't what it is about the ladies that makes them so directionally challenged, but that they are. Most can barely read a map. My daughter is an exception, as I pounded NEWS (North, East, West, South) and map reading into her head from an early age any time we were on a road trip. Now that she's on her own, she seldom gets lost.

[Louis Cyphre]

Let's call him Tim.

Was he an enchanter?

[Dinsdale]

Terry -- the next time you're considering typing more than about two sentences on here...

Don't do it.


If you fail to heed this advice, then at least be decent enough to do some research into the term "punch line."

TIA

[War Wagon]

I am the only one at my workplace now.

So get to fucking work then and quit wasting time on the fucking internet. What the fuck do I pay you for?

~todds boss

[Dinsdale]

There's this retarded jackass that doesn't actually work here, but for the last several years, he shows up at the loading dock and comandeers a forklift, and incessantly mumbles something about "I know you are, but what am I?"


Sin,
Mexicans

[OCmike]

....the schizos...

Hey!