Bathroom Reading

There is a guy at my gym who brings with him, every single day that I see him there, tiny handwritten notes on half sheets of paper. 

 

Source

 

He either A) reads the same note/short story every time or B) writes himself an excerpt of the news or a book every single day to day with him to the gym instead of bringing an actual book/magazine/Kindle. 

 

This could only be more economical than actually buying a book/magazine/Kindle if you place absolutely zero value you on your time.  That would take hours per week to prepare for each gym session.

 

It mystifies me on the regular but, more importantly, it reminds me of a girl I used to work with who used to take a book with her to the bathroom all the time and read.  Like a full, hard cover book.  To read for 30+ minutes at a time.  She would stick the book in the back of her pants and try to sneakily enter the bathroom without being noticed.

 

Source

 

 

I guess it worked on everyone else.  But since we shared an office I would notice her take the book, stick it in her pants, disappear for half an hour, than see her motionless feet beneath the stall when I went in to confirm my suspicions.  Hell, I even heard her turn the pages when I was in there! 

 

I'm all for listening to Pandora while cruising the Internet at work sometimes, but this was quite simply a slap in the face to everyone else who was chained to their desks.

 

It ended up pissing me off so bad I told on her.  Which makes me a loser.  And her an idiot.  But mostly it just reminds me of the handwritten author at my gym now and angers me a little.

True Stories from the Ghost of Workplace Past - Part V

We will wrap up this riveting series with a few obvious observations.

Yes, I have had a lot of jobs. Yes, a lot of them have been awful/awesomely awful/wierd.

But my most previous job before the one I have now found me sitting across from my soulmate. Nay, an angel sent from above.

Have you ever wished that you worked next to your best friend?

That you could bring your Ipod to work and listen to your favorite Disney songs and not give a damn because the person across from you loves them too?

Well gang, I had that.

I had a coworker I never thought could exist outside of my wildest dreams. She loved the soundtracks to The Little Mermaid and Mama Mia as much as me.

She loved talking about food as much as me.

And she loved dancing around the office when no one was looking and challenging each other to switch-split contests.

She was everything and more. And I let it all slip away just so I could marry my current husband. Oh wait, I don't regret that at all. But I miss the hell of that dancing queen.

But in true Mamacita wierd work fashion, she did start her name with two capital AA's, so that's still really wierd.

Nonetheless, no one will ever match up to AA___. I miss you!

True Stories from the Ghost of Workplace Past - Part IV

Once I finally got to fill my permanent position at the residential real estate company, the job itself normalled out a lot.

My coworkers, however, did not!

One of the co-owners of the company, who's name is soo gay that I'm not even going to name it because you wouldn't believe me, had a major flair for the dramatic.

He would go to his cabin up north, which he called something like "Heaven by way of North," and come back with the most ridiculous emails EVER regarding baked goods.

Here's a typical sample of an email he would send to our entire office: "Children, I have just bitter sweetly returned from Heaven By Way of North and have purchased the most fabulous apple pie that one could ever allow to meet the lips of one's mouth. It is in the kitchen. Hurry now before the pie fairies eat it all up. It simply has to be tasted to be believed."

I'm paraphrasing by memory, but I would bet that is the 99% accurate copy of an actual email from him those years ago.

He was also the proud owner of Japanese Bath. I have no idea what that is but he boasted that it could hold 30 gallons of water and allow him to spend hours soaking, "Relaxing away the nastiness of the day!" While that is the most environmentally unfriendly bath situation I've ever heard of, it's also the most dramatic. Therefore, I like it.

True Stories from the Ghost of Workplace Past - Part III

One day at the collection agency, after coworker Candy (real name) had told a riveting story of her new frog tattoo that she just got with her mom, "Because my mom's cool like that," my pseudo-supervisor just up and had a full-fledged seizure.

It. Was. Bizarre.

I was Gchatting my sister about the epicness of Candy's tattoo when $hit started to go down. I literally was typing things like, "Someone in this office is having a seizure. I don't know what to do. Is this real life?"

Luckily...Dr. J, who was also a part owner in the real estate company, and also co-founder of the collection agency, was ALSO a practicing medical doctor.

He swooped in, brought the seizer down to the floor, and put a wallet in her mouth lest she bite of her tongue.

The paramedics came, checked out the stroker, and recommended she come to the hospital. I kid you not, she declined the trip to the hospital, gave Dr. J back his wallet, and worked for the rest of the day as if nothing ever happened.

I couldn't make this $hit up if I tried.

True Stories from the Ghost of Workplace Past - Part II

Because of wierd timing, I got my second job before it was actually available. Therefore, in the interim of about 3 months before I could actually fill my permanent position, I did some training.

But mostly I drove an hour to Greenbelt, MD everyday to work at a collection agency that was randomly also owned by my future employer, which was a residential real estate company.

That's right. A collection agency.

In addition to cold-calling clients everyday to get their udpated contact information, I also got to witness the real collections masters go to work screaming and fighting with debtors on the phone.

There was nary another person in the office that weighed under 200 lbs.

In fact, one day one of the collection agents brought a salad for lunch and the rest of the coworkers literally sneered at her and made fun of her.

I on the other hand brought a turkey sandwich everyday packed in a cooler, and ate in my car alone. These people frightened me. I was not even trying to get hazed for eating a lean meat.

To be continued...

True Stories from the Ghost of Workplace Past

It's been brought to my attention that I have been cursed blessed with some tremendous workplace situations and coworkers.

So in my absence this week (estoy en Puerto Rico!), I thought I would shower you with a daily gift of a story from the ghost of Mamacita's Workplace Past. Let's start off simple.

My first job ever was as an Executive Assistant at a company called 1-800-PackRat. I had to answer the phone 30 times a day saying, "1800PackRat, this is Mamacita. How can I help you?"

Try doing that 30 times a day and respecting yourself. I've officially said the word "rat" more than one human ever should.

I eventually quit because my boss was a monster douche. Quite literally the meanest man I've ever met.