It’s been a long while since I’ve brought up this particular topic… for one thing, I’ve been gloriously out in the field for nearly two months (also the reason I’ve been pretty quiet in blogland and in blog-comment-land. For another, talking about this makes me feel like a crazy person, and like I’m being nit-picky.
I already told you all about Crazy-pants. He was cough-ying me, remember? He isn’t anymore, though I’m also not coughing, so I don’t think that issue is entirely over-with.
A summary – Crazy-Pants is a strange, sad gremlin-man who works in the cubicle next to me. He’s creepy in a “one day, he’ll come to work with a machete or a gun and start massacring people” kind fo way. He’s probably already killing hookers, if his running commentary to himself is anything to go by. He is particularly un-fond of me, which is why I have an escape-route plan, and leave a variety of heavy manuals within easy reach for defending myself.
His talking to himself (and creeping me out royally) has been curbed by a talk with my boss (a big part of why he doesn’t like me), and, like I said, I’m not coughing at the moment, so that issue is on hold.
Which, of course, means he needs a new outlet for his craziness. He needs to let it leak out slowly, or he might explode in a terrifying gooey mess. His craziness seems to now revolve around things that he can do that dance around the border of ‘harassing me severely enough that I can validly complain to my boss again but always on the side of it that would make me seem like the crazy one.” That’s what I’m figuring the cough-y-ing was. After all – “He’s coughing when I cough” is not a sane-person complaint.
A question for you all – where do you floss? I don’t mean, “what part of your body do you floss” – I’m going to assume teeth, and I don’t want to hear any other alternatives. But, in your teeth-flossing endeavors, where do you floss? I’m a bathroom-at-home person, though my old roommate would do it while sitting in the comfort of our private living room, while watching tv sometimes. I bet, though, that if you floss at work, you relocate to the washroom? If not, you should. Seriously.
Crazy-Pants flosses at his desk. Which would be fine, if he were like my old roommate, who was both quiet and efficient at it.
I have never ever heard flossing that loud before. He produces these awful wet *TING!* noises for every single pass he makes with floss. It makes the skin of my lower back attempt to crawl up to cover my ears. And he spits. I’m assuming it’s a case of spitting out whatever it is he flossed. But, given my past knowledge of Crazy-Pants… I really doubt he’s spitting into a kleenex or a garbage can or something.
Now the explanation of why I am sure that this is some kind of harassment tactic. I leave. I realise that flossing noises shouldn’t activate my gag reflex, but his seriously bother me. So I leave. I walk down to the washroom on one side of the building, wash my hands long enough to be fully ready to scrub in on surgery. I walk to the other side of the building, past my desk, and make myself a tea. I wait in the cafeteria for my tea to be adequately steeped (3ish minutes) before removing the bag, and doctoring my tea. I stir it while I’m there, too. And, if anyone is in the cafeteria to talk to, I do. I shoot the breeze, catch up on the details of their children, car troubles, life in general. And then I go back, with at least 15 minutes having past.
And Crazy Pants starts flossing again. By that time in a professional teeth-cleaning, my dental hygienist would likely be shining my teeth or asking me to wait while she goes to find the dentist.
Is this all in my head? I won’t be upset if you think I’m crazy.
Also, even if I am crazy for being bothered – do you agree that flossing at work should be kept in the washroom?