Let's bitch about our stupid, annoying co-workers

Kill her. Eat her heart.

ok, right? and here i am, trying to learn patience and she gets sent my way. i would love to punch her in the throat, i would.

and one more thing, and i'm done. she practically eats pens. she leaves these chewed pens on my desk! all of the time. i have to use a tissue to pick it up and return it to her. the scary thing is is that these pens have been chewed down, meaning that they are a lot smaller than original size. i'm done. i promise.

jesus wept.

yikes. part of me thinks that someone who trusts the only copy of their work to a *floppy* almost deserves to lose it. email copies to yourself regularly at the very least.

Working with anyone on diet pills is the worst thing ever. I had one of those at my first office job right out of college, and I thought I might kill myself. She was always shaking and snippy and frazzled.

but i want to hear more about the new air conditioning saga! as a texan i find british tales of air conditioning endearing.

stories are legion from female coworkers who, not realizing she was using the toilet stall (her feet don't touch the ground, see) walked in on her doing her business. she's also infamous as an office informant (someone once wrote 'narc' on her computer monitor in orange highlighter) and is absolutely impossible to communicate with.

argh

This sounds like a good story!

the perp was terrified that he'd be discovered and actually ended up quitting out of fear. thank f*ck i was out of the office that day, or i would've surely been fingered for it.

she's also an avid juggler!

> but i want to hear more about the new air conditioning saga!

got in this morning and we seem to have reverted to using the windows as windows and the ac isn't even plugged in. (mind boggles at waste of money but is happy that we aren't wasting more).

Doesnt she lock the stall door?!?

he sounds very polite.

I hate it when I have to talk to people.

We once asked him to call a whole slew of actors to get their social security numbers, which he recorded on the spreadsheet from whence he got their phone numbers. This took 4 hours. The spreadsheet was sort of a public document, so we told him to take the social security numbers off there, as they are private, etc. Which he did, with success. Except he DID NOT RECORD THEM ANYWHERE ELSE. And then just left. Successfully undoing his entire days work.

He looks exactly like Buster from Arrested Development.

Workmate: I think Irish accents are really sexy.
Caroline: I know someone from Ireland
W: I like Spanish accents too.
C: I've got a friend who's Spanish
W: And West country accents
C: My grandfather was born in Bristol

Me (to a colleague) My car broke down in ***** (an exclusive area in our town)
C (from across the room) Why are you talking about ****?
Me (resigned to inevitable brag) My car broke down there.
C: My friend lives there.

Workmate: Old John's so switched on, he can speak 4 languages.
C: I know someone who can speak 5

Workmate: So I'm off to Las Vegas for my hols. I can't wait!
C: I know loads of people who've been there.

Workmate: My mum's tiny, lucky thing. She's only a size 8
C: My sister's a size 6.
(the week before her sister's height was apparently 5' 11". At size 6, she really needs to see a doctor)

Caroline also catches the spirit of the age. When our manager's brother left the army to join the clergy, Caroline suddenly had a grandfather who is a C of E vicar. When the Pope was dying and everyone chatted about it at work, suddenly Caroline's family became devoutly Catholic, with her describing a fire and brimstone upbringing completely at odds with her earlier portrayals.
And Caroline plays on her age. At 23 she's the youngest in our department and mistakenly believes that it makes her beautiful and nubile. If you saw her you'd think otherwise. She makes constant comparisons to my age (29) and seems to imply that I'm over the hill. If an oldish song comes on the radio and you say: "That reminds me of a great holiday in 1997", Caroline will say: "I was only 15 then." and I feel like replying: "So what? Were you a fat wallflower then like you are now?"
With the more senior of our colleagues, Caroline will ask what year a certain song came out. When the answer is 1974 or whatever, Caroline will say: "I was minus 8 then." and it's her chance to catch some envy that she mistakenly believes these women have of her.
Some colleagues actually manufacture conversations in order to watch Caroline jump through hoops in order to impress. It can be quite funny but more than anything it drives me crackers.

i am off in a few minutes to a baby shower for my very annoying pregnant coworker. this girl is several years younger than i, got herself knocked up by her stupid boyfriend (who already has another child with whom he has no involvement), and they fight every single day. i get to hear about their arguments (or maybe i should just say argument since it's always the same thing over and over and over) all day at work. she's also continued to smoke newports for the duration of her pregnancy, and then complains about how she doesn't feel well and is uncomfortable. occasionally she'll call at 1 am, crying over something ridiculous, and the other night she asked at 12:30 if she could come over to "talk." NO! STAY AWAY FROM MY HOUSE! i feel bad because she really is a nice girl, just stupid and rather naive; however, i really do not feel like going to an annoying baby shower to pretend to be all excited about this kid.

As of September 19th Matt will HAVE that manager's job. The trips to Clitheroe will only increase, that wine list isn't going to know what hit it.

Patient (in a strange, sarcastic sing-song voice that would continue throughout the call) I'd like to see the Consultant this week.
Me: Sorry, I'm afraid he's fully booked up.
Patient: My next appointment isn't for another three weeks. Why the hell should I wait that long?
Me: Looking on our system here, Mrs Smith, it appears that you've cancelled a number of appointments before now...
P: So?
M: This is why you've had to wait so long. You keep cancelling your appointments.
P: I'm a busy woman. I have school runs to do. I also have shopping trips to make. Every appointment I've been given is on a Wednesday. I can't come that day.
Me: Unfortunately that's the only day the Consultant has a clinic. If your condition needs urgent treatment you should go to ******** hospital (the nearest A&E)
P: Well that's not good enough, is it? What am I supposed to do?
Me: What we tell all patients Mrs Smith, is that if they really need the hospital appointment they will have to make time in their private lives to come in.
P: I don't believe this. Listen to me, My husband is a (middle ranking man in the Services) and I see no reason why I should be kept waiting so long.
M (nonplussed and pissed off) I'm afraid your husband's status is neither here nor there, Mrs Smith. Patients are seen on medical priority only.
P: I am a very busy woman.
M: The consultant is very busy too. This is why an appointment system is in place.
P: Why can't he see me tomorrow?
M: He doesn't run clinics on Tuesday. He'll be in threatre.
P: Let me speak to him.
M: He's not here, in our office.
P: Well where is he?
M: I'd imagine he's operating as we speak. Now can I take it you will be coming to see the Consulant in three weeks' time?
P: I am a wife. I am a mother. I don't have time for this. Are you going to tell me exactly who is going to pick my children up from school if I do?
M Well many other patients arrange for a friend or a relative or a child minder to do it.
P, now shreiking: Are you telling me how to run my life? How dare you be so patronising. What's your name?
M: I'm not t rying to patronise you. You asked me a question-"
P: The conversation has now moved on. I asked for your name."
M: Beverley.
P: Thank you Beverley. Must get your name right if I'm getting you your marching orders.

This conversation took place around three months ago. Nothing's come back on me so i know I did nothing wrong. But I'm left wondering if this woman goes through life rubbing up ppl the wrong way. A colleague, oblivious of my encounter with "Mrs Smith" came back from reception duties to say she'd just dealt with a patient in clinic who was the rudest she'd ever encountered. Yes it was Mrs Smith. But apparently the sight of the Consultant made Mrs Smith come over all girly, a la the sketch on the Fast Show.

Coworker 1 brings back some CDs I'd labelled for him, apparently complaining they are wrong. Each CD is in fact labelled exactly according to what he wrote on the disc. Since I am not at my desk he leaves a post-it note on each CD telling me what the label SHOULD be. The post-its are entirely unintelligible. I copy them exactly anyway, but doubtless they will be 'wrong' again.

Coworker 2 wants lever arch files. But the lever arch files I have in the stationery cupboard are too tall. She wants short ones. I already told her last month we don't get different sizes. In some cases I might do a special order, BUT she doesn't even really work here any more, and as such isn't entitled to ANY stationery. Kindly, though, she has put lots of photos from a party last term onto CDs for all of us. But wants me to reimburse her for the CDs. Arrgh you are a very nice woman but STOP TAKING THE PISS.

"I'm in Word, and I'm trying to write a letter, and the text is too small, and I don't know how to make it bigger."

GRRRRRR. I do not work Saturdays. We do not have such a thing as "on call". Moreover, I should not have to explain things like "press Ctrl-A then look for where it says '8' on the toolbar and change it to '12'" EVERY BLOODY TIME YOU TRY TO WRITE TO SOMEONE.