So I wore THIS HAT to work yesterday. The key there is I wore it. Meaning, I picked it out of my closet, chose to affix it to my noggin and brave the public temperament with my fashion choice.
Actually, not that much thought went into it.. My hair was dirty, I was too lazy to wash it.. Nah - not too lazy to wash it - too lazy to blow dry it straight.. See, I have hair the thickness and texture of steel wool. If I don't want to look like David Coverdale from Whitesnake, or any heavy metal lead singer from the eighties, I've generally gotta blow the entire mess dry. And I don't half ass it. I pin it up and straighten it layer by layer.. which takes the better portion of an evening. So I jammed the hat on my head and bolted for the subway.
A few hours later I am at work, happily typing away about the most recent cop murder, when my news manager strolls by.
"What's with the hat?" He asks. Now I don't take kindly to coworker clothing commentary. It's never wise to make ambiguous clothing comments. Really. Stick with benign observations like "I like your scarf" or "cute sweater!" That's safe territory and really, the only territory you should be exploring with colleagues.
If forced to remark on a coworker's horrendous new haircut simply say, unprompted, "you cut your hair! Cool!" You are then exempt from all white lie compliments for the fantastic fact that you noticed the new do.. But "what's with the hat?" He may as well tell me he thinks my style is ass.
In his ignorance, my manager pressed onward with his badgering, ultimately uttering "your hat is making me feel weird."
Wha...? Am not quite sure how to take that. Now I feel weird that you're sitting in your office feeling weird about my hat.
The whole incident got my best work buddy and I to nattering about all the annoying things people do at work.. So, instead of collaborating on news writing, we took the liberty of collaborating (during work hours, of course) on writing about the office space we share with multifarious and nefarious, crazy, cool and just plain weird folks.
1. "You look tired".
Translation: You look like shit today.
Rant: Don't ever ask anyone, "rough night?" It's just plain rude. You might as well tell them they seem to have gained weight and look old while you're at it.
Translation: You're a grumpy fucker.
Rant: Fuck you. Don't tell me to smile. If I wanted to smile, I'd be smiling and your perky, chipper ass telling me to smile makes me want to send other gestures your way that don't involve smiling.
3. Rant: When you're talking on the phone and someone, aware that you're on the phone, asks a question then hovers, waiting for your answer. How am I supposed to finish gossiping with my friend Natalie while you're hovering? Similarly, if I actually am engaged in a work related phone call it would follow then that I'M BUSY. Go sit down.. I'll see what it was you wanted when I hang up.
4. "What are you eating there?"
Translation: I want some.
Rant: Leave me alone! Why do I have to itemize my lunch/snack items and what restaurant I ordered from for you? Get your own.. Keep your grubby hands off my french fries. If you regularly stick your finger in your nose while sitting at the desk next to me, I can't imagine where you put your hands when I'm not around.
5. There's always the Unwanted Back Rub from "kindly" gentleman coworkers who are just helping 'release stress'.. Quit pawing me perves! Far from easing tension, it gives me the creeps and causes every muscle in my body to stiffen up.
6. "How was your weekend?"
JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP! Must we exchange this pleasantry every goddamn Monday? I don't care that you went to Rent on Broadway with your grandma on Saturday. And no, I don't care for the excruciating details of your Friday night date or how you cooked the most fantastic Sunday dinner. And I'm CERTAIN you don't care that I didn't shower, sat on the couch, inhaled Doritos and watched reruns of Roseanne while my dog licked my feet clean.