I realize that I have been "musing" from Cork but I have not been Amusing. I'll give it a try with some of the things that drive me absolutely crazy; I bet you'll see some of your favorites. First let's start with bodily functions. Number one on my list is spitting. I have to ask, why? Those who spit, and you know who you are, really make me want to throw up. You may be very nice people otherwise but this habit of yours is utterly disgusting. I have the ghastly misfortune of working with a great number of spitters. After ten minutes at the smoking area I start looking around for pieces of lung on the ground. One of the great fortunes of living in America is that you will find tissues wherever you go. It's ok to use them. If money is a problem, I would be happy to buy you some tissues if the spitting ceases. And really, if you have to cough that much, maybe it's time to stop visiting the smoking area.
Following closely behind spitting is open-mouth-chewing. God gave you lips for a reason; use them. Aren't you people afraid the food will fall out of your mouth? Sometimes I sit at the table in the breakroom, quite nicely enjoying some solitude, when all of a sudden an infamous open-mouth-chewer (OMC) will plop down at the table with a big basket of chips and salsa. I have to go. I mean I just have to get up and leave. Once I got up and walked around the corner to the other side of the room only to walk into a grown man clipping his finger nails right next to another lunch table. Again, I must ask, why? We have locker rooms. And I think it's a safe bet that we all have nail clippers at home. Put them next to your bathroom sink, along side the tissues, and use them both. For the love of God, you're adults! I do, however believe I work with children with pituitary disorders; young minds in large bodies. Which brings me to one of my greatest frustrations; 12 year old supervisors on power trips.
I have a couple of supervisors, one in particular, that were not yet born when I graduated high school. When he first started, I noticed while I was training him that he had no beard; not even one little stubble. He played the game and when we got a new manager who wanted young boys with pliable minds (Hitler liked that, too), he became my boss. I know more about my job than he'll ever forget. I don't begrudge anyone for wanting to move up in the company regardless of his age but I just can't sit still while a little boy micro-manages me and everyone in his path just for the sake of flexing his managerial muscle. I find this so annoying due to the fact that he contributes nothing productive. The managerial hierarchy at my place of employment is based on the age old "Good-Old-Boys-Network(GOBN). We have three supervisors who are women, one Hispanic male, and a black guy; just enough to keep it legal. A friend of mine used to work with us. She was pleaded with almost daily from the day she started to become a supervisor; she's black. They would have killed two birds with one stone if they had convinced her; she wisely declined.
Well, now that I have strayed off the amusing trail I will close for now. Next time I'll elaborate more on my company and perhaps racism; huh, another chance to kill two birds with one stone.
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