Rarely do I ever go to lunch with co-workers and because of this, I’ll never reach the upper echelons here, which is fine. I know some co-workers think I am a freak because I am so anti-lunch and anti-happy hour and I do get a lot of shit from them for not participating in the group lunch/group happy hour thing. The truth of the matter is that the less I know about my co-workers and the less they know about me, the easier it is for me to get along and just do my job. I’m not associated with any work cliques and have no emotional attachments here. I think this freaks people out a lot because, after five years here, I’m still somewhat of a mystery.
What’s interesting is that people confide in me the most inappropriate things regarding other co-workers. I really don’t need to know which married co-workers are cheating on their spouses with each other. I really don’t need to know what these co-workers do on the tables in the conference rooms after hours. Gross. The thought of any of my co-workers naked makes me feel really ill. And I really don’t need to hear about co-workers struggling with drug/alcohol addictions and that their “medical leave” is really code for rehab.
I think people confide in me because they don’t see me talking to anyone and they figure I’m safe. I guess I am safe, to a degree, because I don’t feel compelled to spread the gossip. I just let it go and pretend like I never heard it. There have been a few occasions when I’ve been at lunch with co-workers and I’ve gotten up and left when they get to trashing people who aren’t there. I don’t make a big production of my leaving, but instead I just say something lame like I forgot I have a 2:00 meeting and then I go. And as I am walking away, I can feel my ears burning because, now that I’ve left the table, it’s time to pick me apart.
It’s funny how even if you don’t engage in the office gossip mill you will eventually find yourself in it. Every time I get a phone call at my desk, people stop typing because they want to listen to what I’m saying. I do lead an “alternative lifestyle” after all, so I must have some seriously crazy, kinky stories that I’d like everyone in Flat Front Khaki-land to overhear. When I do get that occasional personal phone call at my desk, I am so tempted to say words like dildo, strap-on, fisting, butt plug, and melissa etheridge just to get a reaction.
Oh, and I have heard some interesting rumors about myself like I used to be married to a man before I “became” gay. The most recent rumor was that someone in our accounting department was fired for a conversation she supposedly had with me regarding salaries and bonuses of other co-workers. What??? How do you defend yourself in a situation like this? The only thing that made that situation better was when a new piece of juicy gossip spread around the office about someone’s inability to conceive a child because her husband’s first wife made him get a vasectomy. Suddenly everyone forgot about me.
So today is Wear Your Slippers to Work Day at the office. There is no prize for the wackiest pair of slippers because, as we learned yesterday, “comfort will be our reward.” And to celebrate Wear Your Slippers to Work Day, I have to attend a group lunch in one of the conference rooms (and eat off of one of those aforementioned tables) with my team. Fantastic. I wonder what they’ll say about me after I leave the room when they notice I’m wearing regular shoes to work.
I’m not surprised. She’s never been a team player.
Did you know she’s a lesbian?
Oh yeah! And remember when she started working here her hair was long?
Yeah, and it’s gotten shorter and shorter over the years.
I heard she used to be married to a man. That’s probably why her hair used to be long when she first started.
*sigh*
Whatever.
I’m just going to casually walk away from them in my regular shoes and mumble dildostraponfistingbuttplugmelissaetheridgefarmersmarketsoy.
Ooops! My phone is ringing. Gotta go.
DILDO.
