Mute This
At work, there is a man that sits across the aisle from me whom I will call Mr. Dirty Teeth. Yes, he really does have dirty teeth. His two front teeth are tinged gray around the edges. And that’s only the part I can see. I shudder to think about the rest of his teeth.
So, yesterday, Mr. Dirty Teeth was apparently trying to get my attention. He wanted to know how to put his phone on handsfree mute. Without addressing me by name, he calls out, “Do you know how to put the phone on handsfree mute?” I, trying to look busy at my desk, continued browsing the internet. So he tried again, this time getting up from his desk and running across the aisle into my cubicle, still neglecting to call me by name.
“Hey, do you know how to put the phone on handsfree mute?” he said louder.
When he came into my cubicle, I finally realized that he was talking to me. Apparently I have no name. I turned around to look at him, and was rather irritated with the look he was giving me. It was mixed with belligerence and confusion. For some reason, he couldn’t understand that I did not know that he was talking to me. Maybe he should try addressing people with their names instead of “Hey!” and a wave of his hand. Or maybe he should stop assuming that people are listening to him and his all-important phone conversations. At any rate, the look he was giving me clearly showed that he thought I (1) should know how to use the handsfree mute and (2) was purposely ignoring him.
Now, I did not know how to use the handsfree mute. I still don't. But, given that there is a button on the phone labeled “Handsfree Mute,” I concluded that it was pretty self-explanatory. However, with the look he was giving me, I had absolutely no desire to try and figure it out. So I simply replied, “Sorry,” shrugged my shoulders, and got back to my web-surfing. As I turned, I could see his expression darken. My irritation began to grow.
I already have a problem with Mr. Dirty Teeth because he is the type of person that will ask you what you’re eating in hopes that you will offer him some. And then he’ll gobble it up using his dirty front teeth. I remember the first time I noticed this when I had a bag of Rold Gold honey wheat pretzel twists, and was sharing them with some of my coworkers. Out of nowhere, Mr. Dirty Teeth was in my cubicle and asking me innocently, “What are those?” To quote Clueless, “As if!” I would have had no problem sharing them with him had he just asked for some.
As a result, I cannot eat my honey wheat pretzel twists in peace. I am forever waiting for Mr. Dirty Teeth to leave his desk or get on the phone before I reach into my desk drawer, pull out my bag of pretzel twists, put some on a napkin, and then hide my pretzel bag back in my desk drawer before he can notice. All of that just to avoid having to share my pretzel twists with Mr. Dirty Teeth. I feel slightly guilty because he did offer my chocolate once, but after seeing all the chocolate staining his teeth, I quickly declined. I’m not a big chocolate person anyways.
Now, I’m not a selfish person. I always share my food with my friends. But I don’t like sharing my food with people who ask for some in a way that makes me offer food to them. None of my friends do that. When someone does that, it just says something shady about the rest of that person’s character.
The other day, I was walking back to the office from lunch, when out of the corner of my eye, I spotted someone walking extremely (and might I add, unnecessarily) fast. It wasn’t the extremely quick pace at which he was walking that made me notice him, but more the duck-like, speed-walking technique that he had. And when I looked up and saw his face, I was shocked to discover it was Mr. Dirty Teeth. With my quick thinking, I took a different set of elevators up to my floor instead to avoid sharing a slow elevator car with Mr. Dirty Teeth.
He should be renamed Mr. Walks-With-a-Hanger-Up-My-Ass instead.
So, yesterday, Mr. Dirty Teeth was apparently trying to get my attention. He wanted to know how to put his phone on handsfree mute. Without addressing me by name, he calls out, “Do you know how to put the phone on handsfree mute?” I, trying to look busy at my desk, continued browsing the internet. So he tried again, this time getting up from his desk and running across the aisle into my cubicle, still neglecting to call me by name.
“Hey, do you know how to put the phone on handsfree mute?” he said louder.
When he came into my cubicle, I finally realized that he was talking to me. Apparently I have no name. I turned around to look at him, and was rather irritated with the look he was giving me. It was mixed with belligerence and confusion. For some reason, he couldn’t understand that I did not know that he was talking to me. Maybe he should try addressing people with their names instead of “Hey!” and a wave of his hand. Or maybe he should stop assuming that people are listening to him and his all-important phone conversations. At any rate, the look he was giving me clearly showed that he thought I (1) should know how to use the handsfree mute and (2) was purposely ignoring him.
Now, I did not know how to use the handsfree mute. I still don't. But, given that there is a button on the phone labeled “Handsfree Mute,” I concluded that it was pretty self-explanatory. However, with the look he was giving me, I had absolutely no desire to try and figure it out. So I simply replied, “Sorry,” shrugged my shoulders, and got back to my web-surfing. As I turned, I could see his expression darken. My irritation began to grow.
I already have a problem with Mr. Dirty Teeth because he is the type of person that will ask you what you’re eating in hopes that you will offer him some. And then he’ll gobble it up using his dirty front teeth. I remember the first time I noticed this when I had a bag of Rold Gold honey wheat pretzel twists, and was sharing them with some of my coworkers. Out of nowhere, Mr. Dirty Teeth was in my cubicle and asking me innocently, “What are those?” To quote Clueless, “As if!” I would have had no problem sharing them with him had he just asked for some.
As a result, I cannot eat my honey wheat pretzel twists in peace. I am forever waiting for Mr. Dirty Teeth to leave his desk or get on the phone before I reach into my desk drawer, pull out my bag of pretzel twists, put some on a napkin, and then hide my pretzel bag back in my desk drawer before he can notice. All of that just to avoid having to share my pretzel twists with Mr. Dirty Teeth. I feel slightly guilty because he did offer my chocolate once, but after seeing all the chocolate staining his teeth, I quickly declined. I’m not a big chocolate person anyways.
Now, I’m not a selfish person. I always share my food with my friends. But I don’t like sharing my food with people who ask for some in a way that makes me offer food to them. None of my friends do that. When someone does that, it just says something shady about the rest of that person’s character.
The other day, I was walking back to the office from lunch, when out of the corner of my eye, I spotted someone walking extremely (and might I add, unnecessarily) fast. It wasn’t the extremely quick pace at which he was walking that made me notice him, but more the duck-like, speed-walking technique that he had. And when I looked up and saw his face, I was shocked to discover it was Mr. Dirty Teeth. With my quick thinking, I took a different set of elevators up to my floor instead to avoid sharing a slow elevator car with Mr. Dirty Teeth.
He should be renamed Mr. Walks-With-a-Hanger-Up-My-Ass instead.
posted by danielle at 1:35 PM
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