It Will Not Be Removed For You

This shit is real, and I'm not sure how long I'm going to be stuck here far too close to the new Brooks Brothers for comfort, but it's seriously starting to bug.

There's the territorial water buffalo. Plopped his bag in the chair next to my desk, and then rustled up the courtesy to ask me if I mind. Like at that point I'm actually going to tell the guy to remove his junk? No, mama raised me with some manners, and so now this obnoxious cretin periodically shuffles a bit too near my workspace for his periodic feelings. This business ends tomorrow. I got bags. Nice ones. And they deserve a chair just as much as this ass clown's dumb ass Tumi bullshit.

The big girl who commutes from Riverside has an opinion on absolutely everything. Sneering, nasal & loud, she will not let many precious moments of unmolested conversation  pass without letting the team know her thoughts on whatever subject we're discussing. The opinions are absolute, shrill & unequivocal. I almost want to remind her that only 'Siths deal in absolutes', but she just isn't rad enough for a smack down like that. She laughs at her own comments. The insecurity could drown you. It's sad. Maybe even sadderthan taking the train in from Riverside every day, and deluding yourself into thinking thinking anyone would care about anything you have to say. On any subject. So sad.

Actually, they all do that laughing at their own comments shit. Except the Korean guy. I have an order of roses standing by the moment he makes it through a sentence without descending into self-reflective murmurings. The project may end before we ever get there, but if I am around for his big moment I really want to be a part of it.