I don’t know your name, but make no mistake about it, I know you. That’s what six months of close proximity in an office neither one of us wants to be in will do to you. For example, I know you talk too loud during your conference calls, seeing as I can hear you all the way on the other side of the office. I know where you went to high school, because you still wear that Varsity volleyball fleece from your senior year at least three times a week. (Thanks for letting us know you’re not a total douche.) I know you’re the one who steals the blank DVDs from the supply cabinets, but don’t worry, I won’t tell. My hands are dirty, too.
I also know you are one of those dudes who likes to brush his teeth in the office bathroom. I’ll never disparage a person for trying to practice proper oral hygiene. As a matter of fact, I encourage it. However, I just have one question for you:
What the fuck are you doing?
As I mentioned before, I know a little bit about you, so let me tell you something about myself. I tend to get bothered by little things. Brushing your teeth in the office is one of those little things. Don’t get offended. I’m not systematically dismantling your daily hygiene routine for shits and gigs. Actually, you could even say this is coming from a place of love.
For starters, it’s unhealthy. Maybe you’re under the delusion that since we work in a nice office, our lavatories are immune to the basic laws of nature, and that our communal waste disposal isn’t just a cesspool of our unhealthy coworkers’ bacteria. Come on man, you’re better than that. You see who goes in those bathrooms. The things that some of our plus sized coworkers do to those toilets are probably outlined in some obscure section of the Geneva Convention. Don’t tell me a thorough teeth cleaning is enjoyable when one of the old timers from accounting unleashes a level 8.9 assquake 10 feet from where you’re standing. Brushing my teeth in a room that smells like a Pol Pot prison camp circa 1978 sounds about as enjoyable as boarding a Beijing-bound Malaysian Airlines 777.
Oh, and did I mention the fact that brushing your teeth in the office makes you a total weirdo? Strange, I know, but there’s something about a person who cleans his chompers in the same general area where obese strangers clean their bung hole that is just a bit, oh, I don’t know, off. I know you probably don’t care about what other people think of you–I sure as hell don’t. But I’m not going to go grab a brew with you after work if you continue with this bizarre hygienic ritual day in and day out. Invest in some Listerine or a big pack of Dentyne and maybe we can talk. But probably not, man.
P.S. Quit stealing the DVDs from the supply closet. I need those for my collection of bootleg feature films. If you get me into trouble, there’s a 100 percent chance we’re fighting.