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4 Strangers In My Office And The Completely Irrational Reasons I Hate Them

4 Strangers In My Office And The Completely Irrational Reasons I Hate Them

I don’t know if “irrational” is the right word; my feelings could be totally justified. It’s hard to be objective when you’ve never actually spoken to the person you detest. For all I know, I could be the girl in the office that everybody hates, for very rational reasons.

Before I get ahead of myself, you should know that I work at a WeWork, which is series of offices that house different companies who share common areas. They call it a “collaborative workspace,” but the only thing that brings all of the different employees together is the fact that the kitchen has hot coffee from exotic lands and beer on tap. That, and speakers are always coming through with free food and stickers and shit. It’s basically like daycare for businesses. The only downfall of the place is that if you’re not the kind of person who socializes all the goddamn time, you’re surrounded by strangers. And they’re the worst kind of strangers, because you see them every day and you both register the fact that you have no real intention of making acquaintance with one another. It’s a strange system, and it would be unrealistic to expect me not to make one or two enemies. Or four, to be exact.

1. Woman who washes her hands like a sociopath.

Apparently not everyone in the world washes their hands using the same basic methods that I do, and I probably should just accept that, but I’m really not okay with it. But however your technique may vary, no one has less knowledge on the basic principles of hand cleansing than a woman in my office who washes her mitts like an absolute lunatic. While at the bathroom or kitchen sink, this lady reaches for the soap, gives it a solid two pumps, and proceeds to rub the stuff into her hands like it’s fucking lotion. This is all without water. Then when her hands are coated with the slime, she rinses with water, dries her hands, and goes on about her day as if she didn’t commit a horrific crime against nature. I just, I don’t know how she sleeps at night.

2. Guy who didn’t hold the door for me on two separate occasions.

Look, I’m not one of those girls who believes that every door should be open by the time I reach it. But this particular guy has neglected to hold the door behind him for me twice, and both times the crime has occurred at door that requires a key card. It really kills my vibe when I have to one-hand my water bottle and coffee cup to reach into my ass pocket, grab the key, and unlock the door that leads to more work. I wouldn’t be bothered by it if this weren’t the same guy who forces me to listen to him suck dick through the phone every time he steps into the hallway for a sales call. Stop selling to deaf people or lower your fucking voice, you door-closing son of a bitch.

3. Everyone in the office that is stocked with killer snacks.

We’re talking snacks on snacks on snacks. Oreos, Sun Chips, juice boxes, and enough ramen to last months in post-apocalyptic conditions. They also leave in the early hours of the afternoon and the majority of them wear sliders to work. I’m willing to admit that my hatred is probably misplaced jealousy. To be totally honest, this is about more than just the food. This is an office full of super cool people doing super cool things with events or music or something. Do they really need two bomb shelter-sized jars of Jif, or are they just rubbing it in at this point?

4. Whatever asshole puts his Escalade in a compact spot.

The only thing worse than an overachiever who shows up to work hours before everyone else is one who does so specifically to park like the biggest douchebag possible. For context, you should know that this guy is driving a car in which I can very easily picture Akon riding shotgun. I imagine the best part of his day is plopping his boujee-as-fuck SUV on top of a parking space clearly marked COMPACT, and I say “on top” because it straddles the two yellow lines with inches to spare on either side. Can you imagine thinking so highly of yourself that you believe you deserve not two, but three separate parking spaces? I don’t know who he is, but I hope the door is constantly slammed in his face, and that his company’s snack game is abysmal.

Image via Shutterstock

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Lucky Jo

Just visiting peej on a dare.

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