Excel-lent

Have you ever had a coworker slam your door shut? I have.

Overshare.

It’s embarrassing let me tell you.

Door slamming, in general, is rather childish. Not to say I haven’t slammed a door or two in my day, but at work? Never. Not my style, I suppose.

So imagine my surprise when Overshare sneak-attacks, marching into my office and slamming the door behind her.

My first thought? Well, because I’m rather self-absorbed this way, my first thought was along the lines of “Great, now everyone thinks I’m pissed off. I know what everyone will be talking about at lunch…” But see, since Overshare is a cubicle bee in the office hive, she has no door. So apparently the only way she knows to blow off steam at Tyrannical Sorority Sister is to slam my door.

Fantastic. Especially since my door is two doors down from TSS’s.

Overshare, screaming: I HATE HER!!!
Anonymous: Now, Overshare, it’s ok…
Overshare: I HATE HER!!!
Anonymous: Sit down… here, have some chocolate.
Overshare, mumbling: Thanks.

We paused here for a good long while. Overshare was violently ripping out some spare threads from the hem of her pants. I typed up a quick email to Witty Comeback to try and get her to spread the word that it wasn’t me that was so upset.

Overshare: She wrote me up.
Anonymous, gasping: For what??

I should probably interject here that I’ve worked for my company for several years now, and I’ve never heard of someone getting written up. Ever. And there have been more than a few people worthy of it. It’s just not done.

Overshare: Ready for this?
Anonymous: Uh, sure.
Overshare: Because that report I sent out this morning didn’t have gridlines.

Gridlines.

I kid you not.

We’re having an international situation because of gridlines, people. GRIDLINES.

And apparently, the very word "gridlines" causes Overshare to lose her temper, because she starts yelling again.

Overshare: GRIDLINES!! GOD DAMN GRIDLINES!! FOR A REPORT THAT SHE DOESN’T EVEN PRINT OUT, WHICH MEANS SHE CAN SEE THE F*%KING GRIDLINES IN EXCEL WHEN SHE OPENS IT!
Anonymous: Ok, breathe… she’s right down the hall, you know, and the walls are thin.
Overshare: GRIDLINES, ANONYMOUS! GRID! LINES!
Anonymous: I know, I know…

And then, the unthinkable. There’s a knock at my door.

[knock, knock]
Anonymous: Yes?
[Door opens]
Tyrannical Sorority Sister: I’m sorry to interrupt, Anonymous, but I just wanted you to know that if you print out that report that Overshare sent this morning, it won’t have gridlines. You’ll have to go into the excel file and select them yourself. I know it's a big inconveniece. I’ve already discussed this with her; it won’t happen again.

And then, the Stare-Down of All Time commences.

TSS and Overshare lock gazes. Neither is looking away any time soon.

Anonymous, clearing her throat: Uh, thanks, TSS.

More staring.

Anonymous: Overshare and I were just…

And there, I’ve backed myself into a corner. TSS knows what Overshare and I were just “discussing”. There is no way in hell she didn’t hear Overshare yelling. And I know for a fact that that is the only reason she told me about the God-forsaken gridlines, because I, in no way, ever use the report in question.

Anonymous, under her breath: Well, this is awkward.

Staring competition enters minute two.

Anonymous: I really need to go downstairs for a meeting.

More staring.

Anonymous: I’ll just leave you two to it, then.

And so I left them there. Staring. When I came back an hour later, they were gone. TSS left for the day, and Overshare sat in her cubicle, fuming.