Mondays can be tough. That’s why every Monday from now until you die, I’ll be doing the Manic Monday Mailbag to keep us both entertained, unless I’m too hungover. You can submit your questions by clicking “Mailbag” on our submission form, or emailing firstname.lastname@example.org.
Q: How many bathroom breaks can I take per day without my coworkers noticing (I work 8-5)? If they were to catch onto this scheme, do you think I could use a sick day to “go get checked for an enlarged prostate?”
—Richard in Seattle
If the “scheme” is taking as many bathroom breaks as possible to avoid doing any actual work, then I’d hate to break it to you, Dick, but everyone in America is privy to your super secret strategy. More importantly, telling everyone in the office that you’re going to get a prostate exam is probably weird. Do women in your workplace make an announcement when they’re going to the gynecologist? Maybe your company just has a really, really open corporate culture. I don’t know. Regardless, your train of thought here is blowing my mind. You’re concerned that your coworkers are going to become angry if you spend too much time in the bathroom, and your plan, should you get called out, is to tell everyone that you’re taking a sick day to go get checked for an enlarged prostate in hopes that their response will be “Oh no! Slick Rick might have prostate cancer! It’s totally cool that he spends 3 hours a day in the bathroom now! I feel awful for judging him!” Fuck is wrong with you, Tricky Dick? Pull yourself together, man.
Q: Is it bad that I judge people by the way they dress? I mean, is it that hard to throw on a dress shirt and some dress pants? When did jeans become the acceptable way of doing business? Then, on top of all that, I get looked at funny because I make myself look presentable and dress like I know what I’m doing.
This depends entirely on what industry you’re in. I’m currently sitting at my desk wearing a t-shirt, khaki shorts, and sandals. It’s the middle of November. You got a problem with that, buddy? I’ll throw down with you in the octagon if need be. For some reason I’m imagining you as the type of jackass that wears a three-piece suit with a pocket square to work on casual Friday because you think it’s a power move. My advice to you would be to worry less about others and more about yourself. Lighten up.
Q: I am turning 23 this week and have a solid salary job in my hometown suburb of Atlanta. I bought my first house back in March and had roommates from high school who never left our hometown trap. I have since kicked them out for having high school parties every time I went back to Tallahassee (I’m an FSU alumni) for the weekend. Since then, my parents put their house on the market in anticipation of moving back to our beach house in Daytona after my sister graduates and goes off to college. However, it sold sooner than expected and now I have new roommates. Roommates with whom I share too much in common…my blood. My sister does not go off to college until fall of 2014.
This is the opposite of what is supposed to happen to a recent grad, right? They are relieving my wallet from paying my mortgage month to month. Should I sublease an apartment in Atlanta for a short time? I wanted my own place to brag about owning my own house, but now if I bring a girl home from Buckhead it looks like I live with my parents! Do I live with my parents or do they live with me? Whose roof am I under?
Damn, that sucks. I’d say you’re still living under your own roof, since you’re the one that bought the damn house, but now you’re allowing your parents to pay your mortgage in exchange for having them and your sister move in temporarily, so things have gotten complicated. Renting an apartment in Atlanta simply for the sake of having sex in it sounds awesome if you can afford it. Then, once you’re married, you can tell the wife you’re working late and stay in the city to carry on a steamy affair with a much younger woman, eventually ruining your entire life, a la Pete Campbell in Mad Men. Tell me that doesn’t sound awesome. Really though, you’re the one doing your parents a favor here. You should be shamelessly bringing girls back to your place and banging them out at an inappropriately loud volume in order to get your new roommates to bail as soon as humanly possible. Just explain the situation to the female you’re closing on, and she’ll probably think you’re super sweet for taking care of your family.
Q: Today, I was in a small meeting with my supervisor and a couple of peers. I had just gotten back from lunch so my phone wasn’t on vibrate. I’ve only been at this job for a few weeks and my phone went off in the middle of the meeting. Should I apologize to my supervisor for disrupting the meeting?
It’s really not that big of a deal. I mean yeah, you should apologize, but quit being such a little bitch about it, Dan.
Q: I can’t afford the health insurance offered to me through my company, because I am not paid enough to afford it. What do I do?
Q: In a near blackout state after a company party, I hooked up with one of my superiors. I can only avoid him for so long at our small company. How would a normal person deal with this situation?
Just act like it never happened. Be a professional. I can almost guarantee that he’s more worried about it than you are.
Q: What is the story on your profile picture? It looks hilarious and like there is a good story behind it.
—Sent from Chris’ iPad
I’m assuming you’re referring to my Twitter picture. It’s a classy photo from my first semester of college in the fall of 2005. I attended a party in a warehouse, at which there were thousands of tubes of paint that everyone threw all over each other while consuming unsafe amounts of alcohol. Afterward, I returned to campus in a truck driven by a friend with three other passengers. When we exited the truck inside the parking garage of a dormitory, I began urinating on the wall. A police officer pulled into the garage and hit me with his spotlight mid-piss. I barrel rolled over the side of the parking garage to avoid arrest, thinking we were on the first floor. We were not. I fell for a while and then landed on the sidewalk, cracking a couple ribs and surprising another police officer who was unfortunately parked roughly five feet from where I landed. He arrested me for public intoxication, and I was taken to Hays County Jail covered from head-to-toe in multicolored paint, wearing nothing but a bathing suit (no shoes, no shirt, 99 problems). Once in jail, they hosed me down in a half-successful attempt to cleanse the paint from my body, gave me a jumpsuit, took the mugshot that is now my Twitter picture, and threw me in the drunk tank where I passed out on the floor and pissed myself in my sleep. It was totally worth it and I stand by my decision to pee in public. I really had to go. Unfortunately, everyone I was with received “Minor in Possession” (MIP) tickets because of my escape attempt. Fuck the police.
Q: My morning coffee poops keep clogging the toilet. The office has all low-flow fixtures and the toilet paper feels like (heavenly soft) quintuple ply. What should I do? The john clogs every other day and it’s embarrassing.
Poop at home. Have a less disgusting diet. Use multiple courtesy flushes. Be an adult with common sense that doesn’t need a stranger on the internet to help you figure out how to properly eject waste from your body.