You know those super-bright plasma screen billboards they have beside highways now? The ones that usually cycle through a series of ads, and will burn-up your retinas at night? Well, there’s one alongside I-81 that I pass on my way home from work, and it’s relatively subdued — until it gets to an advertisement for an upcoming appearance by Bill Engvall.
The others have dark backgrounds, but the Engvall ad is white, with his big ol’ three-story high head in the middle. And it’s so bright, it takes the surrounding area from 2:00 am darkness to Miami noontime, in an instant. I don’t know if my car triggers it, or what, but it flashes every time I go past there, and I get so startled I nearly shriek and whip the wheel violently to the left.
Then I see Bill Engvall’s face whenever I blink, like a film negative. It’s burned into the frontal lobe of my brain or some shit. And I’d like to take that thing, ram it straight up his ass, and say, “Here’s your sign, shitlips.” Good god. It’s a wonder I haven’t ended up on the roof of an Arby’s, soaked in gasoline, and strapped to a burning bucket seat.
Tell me if you believe this story… Someone recently told me about a co-worker who uses some kind of rolling cart to do his job. The dude reportedly considers it HIS cart, and gets super-agitated if someone else touches it. Even though it belongs to the company…
Yeah, I have no problem believing that part. In fact, it sounds about right. People are dumbasses that way. Heck, I’d likely be the most cartcentric person in the whole place, if I was suddenly plunged into such a world. Hey, keep your filthy, funky-ass crack-scratchers off my cart! I can hear myself raging right now.
And I guess this guy was losing it, as well. His cart was never where he’d left it the day before, and he zeroed in on a certain woman, who he believed was using the thing during the hours he wasn’t at work. He’d rant about her, and the other employees would just roll their eyes, and tell him to forget it. It’s not his own personal property, after all.
But he wouldn’t let it drop. And he finally began removing the wheels every night before he went home, and locking them up in a file cabinet. Heh.
And on the second night of Operation Wheels-Off, the very same woman he’d suspected loaded the cart with product, gave it a big push, and did a full somersault over the top of the unyielding thing. She supposedly injured her spine, or her neck or something, and the man was fired the next day.
Can that possibly be true? It makes me laugh, but I have a hard time believing it. I can’t see someone going over the top of a cart like that, even though I enjoy the vision inside my head. And I don’t think it’s a fireable offense, either.
Have you ever dealt with the insanely territorial at any of your jobs? As I said, I can’t really be too judgmental, because I don’t like people messing with “my” stuff, either. But have you come across these types of people, who take it too far? (My actions are fully justifiable.)
I once worked with a woman who was addicted to signage. Her cubicle walls, and the adjacent area were littered with the many signs she’d posted. She wanted everyone to do things exactly the way she did them, and made her demands via Microsoft Word fliers. She was completely crazy, and lived with dozens of cats. I know that’s a cliché, but it’s also true in her case.
So, if you have anything on territorial co-workers, or sign-posters, or anything of the sort, please tell us about it in the comments.
Also, if you have any good office gossip, we’d like to hear that, as well. It doesn’t matter that we don’t know the players, because an office is an office is an office. Just tell us about it, and I have a feeling we’ll be able to relate.
And that’ll do it for today, boys and girls.
Just so you know… Nancy, Sunny, and the gang will be arriving on Christmas Eve. Sunshine and Mumbles could have come early, but didn’t exercise the option. So, they’ll all be descending at once. Stay tuned.
Have yourselves a great day.