- If you see me on the fucking phone, GO AWAY!
I have had too many coworkers come to my desk while I’m on the phone, make eye contact, and then start talking. Oh, so fuck what I’m talking about, huh? NO! If you see me on the phone, don’t assume it’s a person call. And even if it is a personal call – honestly, it probably is – you don’t interrupt. Send me an email or come back with your rude ass.
- If you see me coming, hold the god damned elevator.
Listen, I know some of you be in a rush to get upstairs, but that’s no excuse for being a dick. The four seconds you have to wait for me to get to the elevator will not make a difference. And if I see your ass push the close button when I’m hustling to the elevator, I will confront you because you need to learn some manners, motherfucker!
- If it’s on the printer/fax and it’s not yours, don’t touch it.
For the most part, I’ve been blessed to have my own printer in the office, but when I did have to share it, I would have to print shit multiple times because people would just grab everything on the printer and trash what wasn’t theirs once they got back to their desk. And don’t get me started on waiting for a fax for an hour, calling back the sender to say you never received it, and finding it later way over yonder in the copy room. This is a good way to get your ass cussed out in the office.
- Don’t worry about what the fuck I do on my time off.
Unless we have a well-established relationship, do not ask about my holiday/weekend/vacation plans. If we already have a relationship, we would usually have already talked about these plans. But you nosy fuckers who can barely pronounce my name don’t need to pry into my personal life. I plan to not be here and not have to deal with your fake interest and faux concern. That’s all you need to know.
- If you touch my food in the refrigerator, you’ll need all those sick days.
I do not play about my food AT ALL. I respect people’s property and demand the same. So if you see a dish in the refrigerator you know is not yours, don’t play Curious George opening shit up. I am not Nancy from HR. I don’t give a damn about a hostile environment. I will let your ass have it over my leftover pot roast and rice. Get fucked up in the break room if you wanna.
- Don’t nobody want that shit you brought in for the office party.
When you made that damn mayonnaise and peach glazed grilled chicken at home, did anybody eat that shit? NO! So what made you think we wanted it at work? Your kids wouldn’t even eat it. Not to mention we’ve seen the cat hair all over your clothes. And quite frankly, your desk is nasty as fuck. We don’t want any of your salmonella casserole. Just go buy some sodas and plates for the party and save yourself the hurt feelings because everybody’s gonna pass on your dish.
- If you see me creeping in late, don’t speak.
I understand you make this job your life and get up at the ass crack of dawn to ensure you’re never late, but I don’t. Sometimes I oversleep, I run into traffic or I am just fucking late. Don’t be dry snitching hollering, “Good morning,” and waving when you know my manager can hear you. Your petty will be repaid twice over.
- Don’t touch shit on my desk.
If you need a pen, staples or binder clips, walk your ass to the supply room. I don’t care if you see two boxes of pens on my desk, do not touch my shit. I do not like to share. I surely do not like to share with your annoying ass. So don’t ever attempt to treat my work area like Office Max.
- Please keep your voice down.
If I cared about your daughter’s cheerleading competition, you moving or your upcoming wedding, I’d ask. I do not. So please don’t stand near my desk and converse about personal shit. If you want to yap with coworkers who care, do it over messenger or near your own desk. I need to focus on my work and not be distracted by the screechy annoyance that is your voice.
- Stop asking 50 questions in the meeting.
Nobody wants to have a meeting about all the work we have to do when we could just be doing the work we have to do. And it’s even worse when you keep asking ridiculous questions. You’ve been working here since the Great Depression. You cannot have this many questions about the same processes you’ve been following for decades. The heavy sighs and teeth sucking you’re hearing is because we all want to whoop your ass for keeping us in the conference room for an extra fifteen minutes with your never ending stories and questions.
- When you see me leaving, I’m leaving.
Don’t come asking me a motherfucking thing about the job when you see me with my purse walking out the door. I do not give a damn about the email you sent or the urgency of the report due. I am going home. You had eight hours to ask me whatever. You obviously did not manage your time wisely because had you, you wouldn’t be running me down in the parking lot. Welp! See you tomorrow.