Olympic Overshare

My office is... how shall we say... not exactly sport-oriented. I, personally, am a sport fanatic. But my coworkers... not so much. Save figure skating. They are some crazy fools about figure skating. I overheard one group of coworkers getting into a very loud argument over who should have been on the USA Olympic team... and they all seemed very knowledgable about it, which struck me as odd. But whatever. Suffice to say-- Figure Skating is King in my workplace. Sacred, even.

Obviously, last Thursday night is when the all-important Women's Figure Skating was being broadcast on NBC. There was much grumbling in the ranks here about it not being live because of the time change, yadda yadda yadda. I think some of our customer service people even pledged to not check any internet sites that could possibly show the medal count that day.

Overshare, literally dancing with excitment: How much do you care about the Olympics?
Anonymous: Ehh. I can take it or leave it... I like some particular sports, but I get more excited about Summer Olympics.
Overshare: So you won't care if I tell you the figure skating standings? I just checked the live results.
Customer Service Rep, from his own cubicle where I can't see him: HEY!!! DON'T YOU DARE TELL!!!
Overshare, yelling: But she doesn't care.
Customer Service Rep, yelling: But I do!!
Overshare: [waves her hand dismissively] Then cover your ears.
Anonymous: Hey, Overshare... I don't really need to know, and he obviously doesn't want to hear... so I can wait to see the results.
Overshare: Maybe you're right.

I breathe a big sigh of relief that a fistfight has been avoided. Too soon.

Overshare: I'll just leave it at: Sasha fell and the Japanese girl didn't.
Customer Service Rep: [groans] I can't believe you just did that.
Overshare: What?? I didn't say that every one else falls too and so Sasha still gets the silver, now did I?

[beat]

Overshare: Oops.
Customer Service Rep: [groans; I hear a *thunk* as he puts his head on his desk.]

Staff Meetings

In a staff meeting this week, we were discussing potential themes for a future formal event. We decided to center the event around a city/country... Ideas were thrown around, everyone talking at once....

Witty Comeback: A tropical country could be fun... and there are several caterers in the area specializing in tropical fuzion type of things...
Department Head: Or we've been looking to target [certain CEO of large foreign company] so maybe this would be a good way to get him interested.
Sub-Department Head: Well, we just recently did a party with that theme... our demographic may remember. How about a Scandinavian country? We haven't done something like that in quite a while...
Overshare: Ooo! Ooo! I know! I know!
Witty Comeback: Or maybe we could...
Overshare: I said I know!!
Witty Comeback, under her breath: Oh dear Lord.
Overshare, straight faced: The Nether Regions!

[Complete and Total Silence. From all 16 people in the room. There are just no words.]

Overshare, embarrassed now: Ha ha.... [voice trails off a bit as she realizes people don't think it's funny] get it? The Netherlands? Nether Regions?

[Silence.]

Toolshed, very, very quietly: Ha ha. Nether Regions.

Those Sneaky Swedes

Overshare: CTF has a new girlfriend.
Anonymous: No.
Overshare: Yes.
Anonymous: Are you sure? I thought he needed to get "his stuff together?"
Overshare: I’m just kidding. He does have a stalker though.
Anonymous, baffled: A stalker?
Overshare: Yeah, it’s hysterical. She’s a Swedish nanny.
Anonymous: Did you actually meet her, or did CTF just tell you about her?
Overshare: Oh, I met her. Well, not really. But she was at Skank Bar while I was there. I was sitting outside with CTF and this ugly girl in the corner kept giving me dirty looks. I asked CTF who she was and he said that she comes in every night and sits in that corner and stares at him all night. And she’ll send drinks over to him. She’s so ugly, Anonymous. UGLY. Like she-ain’t-got-no-alibi ugly.
Anonymous: So, does CTF ever talk to her?
Overshare: Hell no! He’s scared of her actually. She just sits there and stares at him. They’ve never even talked, he said.
Anonymous: Then how did he know she’s a Swedish nanny?
Overshare: Hmm. How did he know?
Anonymous, half-under her breath: Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he lied.
Overshare: What are you talking about? When has CTF ever lied to me?

Let's see... how about here? Or here? And I have a sneaking suspicion that he lied here, too.

Overshare: Whatever... I'm sure he was just being polite the first time he met her or something.

Can I just interject that she has now started lying to herself for CTF, before CTF even has to? Half of the fun is seeing what lie he'd come up with, isn't it? I mean, I'm just waiting for him to say something like, "Oh, well we never talked, so that's true. She sent me a note via carrier pigeon."

Overshare: Anyway... I'm sure he'd never go for someone that ugly. And if he did, I'm sure it's because she's Swedish. His parents are Swedish, too.

The Infamous Conversation

I know the blog is supposed to be about Overshare, but I got a couple of requests for Oh-My-God-I-Loved-It's infamous religion conversation, so I'm posting it. Enjoy. Overshare will be back soon.

Jewish Coworker: I’m going to my best friend’s house tonight, and I’m really nervous about it.
Anonymous: Why are you nervous?
Jewish Coworker: Well, they’re Orthodox, which means they’re kosher. I always get worried that I’m going to put meat on the wrong plate or something.
Oh-My-God-I-Loved-It: What are you talking about, wrong plate?
Jewish Coworker: Well, when someone is kosher they have to follow very strict rules about their food—including how meat is butchered, stuff like that. And there are separate plates for different foods. If you mess up this whole big process has to be followed to make everything kosher again.
OMG: That’s just stupid.
Jewish Coworker, offended: It’s not stupid; it’s kosher.
OMG: No, it’s stupid. Like how Christians set an extra place at the table for Jesus.
Anonymous: What was that?
OMG: When you become Christian you have to set an extra place at the dinner table for Jesus and serve it food and everything for the rest of your life.
Anonymous: No, you don’t.
OMG: Yes, you do.
Anonymous: I became a Christian when I was thirteen. I’ve never set an extra place for Jesus. I’ve never been told I had to. I know hundreds and hundreds of Christians who don’t do that.
OMG: Well, you’re supposed to.
Anonymous: Are you a Christian?
OMG: God, no! Are you kidding? That’s like being Muslim or something! So oppressive to women. I’ll never get why women would ever choose to join an organized religion.
Anonymous: Well…
OMG: Spirituality is such a personal thing, you know? Like the other day, Saturday… these Baptist women knocked on my door. And then they handed me a magazine and asked me if I was saved.
Anonymous: They handed you a magazine?
OMG: Yeah. Stupid Baptists. I told them that religion is a very personal thing and I’d rather not discuss it. And then they asked if I was Catholic and I just laughed at them. As if, of all religions, I'd be Catholic.
Anonymous: Are you sure they weren’t Jehovah’s Witnesses?
OMG: No, there are like five Baptist churches around my house.
Anonymous: Right. I just ask because it’s not a usual practice of Baptist churches to hand out magazines door-to-door.
OMG: Well, they’re all the same, right? Mormons, Baptists, Jehovah’s Witnesses.
Anonymous: No, not really.
OMG: Yes, they are.

You've Got to Love Formals

I work for an organization that throws a lot of parties. A lot. Formal ones. Ones that people pay a lot of money to attend.

The best part, obviously, is that I get to attend these functions for free-- if I "work" them. "Working" generally includes greeting people as they enter, running some of the behind the scenes stuff, etc. It's a very small price to pay for a fabulous three-course meal, an open bar and a night of dancing.

So I shouldn't be surprised that Overshare likes to work these events too, right?

We had one such event this past weekend.

I was teamed up with Toolshed. Remember him? And don't forget this one.

So we're standing at our station, doing our job, when Overshare walks up. (Obviously having abandoned her post, fifteen minutes into the night.) Keep in mind that Toolshed and I have a rather prominent position in the room-- a lot of guests milling around us, interacting with us, just generally within earshot of us.

Overshare, to Toolshed: Do I have Bubble Boob?
Toolshed: Huh?
Overshare, louder: Do I have Bubble Boob?
Toolshed: I'm confused.
Anonymous: No Overshare, you don't have Bubble Boob. Aren't you supposed to be working in the other room?
Overshare: Well, I can't work if I'm worried about Bubble Boob, can I?
Toolshed, in anguish apparently: I don't even know what that is.
Anonymous: Overshare? Are you going to explain it?
Overshare: It's when your bra is too tight, causing your boobs to bubble over the top.
Toolshed: Why would you wear a bra that's too tight?
Overshare: It's hard to find a bra that fits this rack, ok??!?

Company Birthday Party

This is an honest-to-God Overshare moment that happened five minutes ago. To tell the story accurately, I must introduce a new character, one that I'm frankly surprised I haven't had the opportunity to talk about before: Oh-My-God-I-Loved-It. Shortened to OMG for my sanity's sake.

She's named that because her favorite conversations go like this:
Oh-My-God-I-Loved-It: Anonymous, did you see Million Dollar Baby?
Anonymous: I did.
OMG: Didn't you love it? Oh my God, I loved it!

Or like this:
OMG: Anonymous, have you ever eaten at [insert fancy restaurant name]?
Anonymous: I have... I really liked--
OMG:Didn't you love it? Oh my God, I loved it!

Now, my friends will be the first to tell you that OMG has been my nemesis at work for several years. For several reasons, really.

1. Why does she answer the question that she's asking you, before you have a chance to answer it? That's just irritating.
2. She's got this whole California Valley Girl thing going on that I just can't handle.
3. She has the tendency to repeat back to you what you just said, but like it is her own thought.
4. The infamous let's-offend-every-religion-we-can-in-five-minutes conversation.

Anyway, OMG plays an important role in today's story. Maybe someday I'll post the conversation in #4, just so you can enjoy that too. On to the Overshare:

We're at a birthday party for several coworkers. In the room are several of the higher-level execs-- including, but not limited to, our President, our head of Human Resources, several VPs and department heads.

Overshare: OMG, you have something on your shirt... here. [Picks off a piece of non-existent lint from OMG's chest.]
OMG, half-kidding: Umm... Overshare? I know you're obsessed with my chest but that's taking it a little too far.
Overshare: I'm not obsessed with your chest, OMG.
OMG: Then why do you stare at it all the time?
Overshare: I don't stare at your chest!
OMG: Um.... ok.
Overshare, yelling now: That was one time! And we were talking about boobs already because I kept turning the lights off in your office accidentally with MY boobs!

Complete silence falls on the room. The President stops, with his forkful of cake halfway to his mouth.

Overshare: It was an accident.

More silence.

Head of Human Resources: Well, you don't hear that one every day.

Are those tears of joy?

One morning, Overshare came into my office when Witty Comeback and I were talking. She was crying. And not just on the verge of crying, or sniffling a little bit... no. We're talking full out sobs-- shoulders shaking, can't talk because she's not breathing, that kind of crying. I, obviously, think that someone has died.

It's amazing that I'm still that naive.

Nope, no one died. Her dog wasn't hit by a car. She didn't get yelled at by her supervisor. She wasn't even pre-menstrual.

Overshare: CTF and I (sob) went to the beach (sob) this weekend (sob sob) and we had such a great time...(sob)

Witty: Hey, sit down... it's ok. Calm down a bit.

Overshare: And then on the way home (sob sob), he told me that (sob)...

Here, Overshare stopped for a minute, shaking her head as if she couldn't go on. But don't worry, she got over that. She took a breath, squared her shoulders and continued on. Such a brave little thing.

Overshare: He told me that he thought we needed to take a break because he needs to deal with all of his issues. He's embarrassed about the court stuff, and needs to figure out what he's going to do about his baby girl... and he just thinks it's easier to do it alone.

Anonymous: Well, maybe it's for the best...

Overshare starts shaking her head emphatically.

Anonymous: I mean, he does need to get all that stuff in order...

More head shaking...

Overshare: No no no no no no no.....

I, personally, am dumbfounded. I'd be singing praises to the heavens for freeing me from such a man without even having to break a sweat.

Overshare: And he still wanted to break it off even after we hooked up in the car again, in the parking garage. (Sob)

What was that, you say? Hooking up in the parking garage? And yes, folks... that kind of hooking up. And that means that this conversation had literally just taken place. As in... they drove in from the beach this morning and went straight to work... after hooking up in the parking garage.

Anonymous and Witty Comeback: (shudder involuntarily)

Overshare: How do I get him back? We're having dinner tonight at my house.

Anonymous: I thought you guys broke up.

Overshare: We did. But we're still going to see each other. We're just not going to be in a relationship.

There are no words, truly. Basically, CTF managed to break up with her, then sleep with her, then managed to somehow arrange to keep seeing her (read: keep sleeping with her) without any kind of relationship. Unbelievable. But then again, not really.