Join Overshare and her cast of crazy characters as she tells all, bares all...
Thursday, June 29, 2006
Tell Me Those Walls Are Sound-Proof
On a sad note-- I'm going on vacation here soon... so updates are going to be virtually non-existent until the middle of July. Of course, I'm addicted to posting, so you may get one or two. I'm sorry folks, but I gotta escape the Craziness of the Crazy a couple of times a year to keep my sanity. That said, enjoy this one and I'll see you all in a week or two. (If you'd like me to email you when I return, send an email saying so to coworker.anonymous@gmail.com .)
Overshare: I was over at CTF’s last night. Anonymous: Hmmm. Overshare: We were going to bed, and he kept trying to take my pajama bottoms off. Anonymous: [Silence.] Overshare: And I mean really trying. I kept pushing his hand away, but he was so insistent! Anonymous: Hmmm. Overshare: Yeah. Can you believe that? Anonymous: Can I believe what? Overshare: That he actually wanted to sleep with me, at his parents’ house, while they were upstairs?!!?!?
It boggles the mind. She’s perfectly fine with sleeping with CTF in a whole host of other public fashion (need I remind anyone of the parking garage? Or of the performance they gave for her sister?) but somehow this, this, was crossing the line. This horrible thing, she could not do. His parents, sleeping two floors above them, that’s the Deal Breaker.
How does one begin to combat such flawed logic?
Anonymous: Hmmm. Overshare: But he was just so persistent, so finally I said I’d only do it if I were on top. He’s much quieter that way. So that’s what we did, and it was awesome, again!
I quickly filed this under Things Anonymous Needs to Poke Out Her Eye for Hearing, Item #2,058,486.
Did you get that? Toolshed just squealed like a tween at a Cole & Dylan Sprouse sighting.
He’s not even in my office, and the squeal feels like it was launched into my ear. He’s actually down the hall and around the corner at Overshare’s cubicle.
Apparently, she’s excited too because I can hear her responding.
Overshare: I know!! Aren’t they awesome?!? Toolshed: Squuueeeeeee!! Overshare: Here… take one. You rip here… fold here… (fades into indistinct mumbling.)
Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump…
(That’s the sound of Toolshed running down the hallway and stopping outside my office.)
Toolshed, yelling to Overshare: READY???!?!? Overshare: Hell yeah! Toolshed: Here he comes! It’s the Red Baron!!
I know you’re all dying to know what the hell they’re doing, just like I was.
Paper Airplanes.
Overshare got a calendar of paper airplanes.
The best part? Toolshed released his and it flew behind him. Twice.
Overshare: Do you have any idea why they’re interviewing people for the Separate Department position? Anonymous: Because they want to hire someone? Overshare: But I already turned in my résumé. Anonymous: Right… well…
So, how awkward is this conversation?
Possible replies include: Well, obviously they don’t want to hire you. Well, obviously they’re still looking. Well, obviously Ultimate Class would rather die than have to supervise you. And my personal fave… Huh. Who would have guessed?
Brace yourselves for a shock here, but I actually didn’t need to give much of a response. Because, after all, we’ve already established that it’s not really about wanting to know my opinion as much as it’s about wanting to state hers. Therefore, “Right… well…” was all she needed from me.
Overshare: They can’t possibly find someone more qualified for the position. For just one day, I would like to know what it is like to live my life with such unabashed confidence. But if it ever means getting involved with someone like CTF, I think I’ll just say “I pass” and then wonder if my butt looks big in these pants all day. Because some things just aren’t worth it.
Anonymous: Well, I did hear that Ultimate Class was looking for someone with a lot of experience. Overshare: But she knows me. Anonymous: Right. But you don’t have any experience, and it’s a mid-level position. Overshare: But she knows me. Anonymous: Right. Overshare: Why would they hire someone they don’t know?
Oh, where to begin with this question? First, the obvious: isn’t that what the entire hiring process is about? Does she think companies all across America only hire people directly within their acquaintance circle? It’s not like all 61,000 employees of Microsoft are Bill Gates’ direct personal friends.
Second: The very fact that Ultimate Class does know Overshare is more than likely 80% of the reason that she doesn’t hire her. She knows exactly what she’s like, and would rather poke out her own eye with a spoon than share a tiny office space with her.
Anonymous, completely b-sing: Well, maybe they just have to interview other people, for legal reasons. Overshare: That must be it.
Seriously, though… over 100 visits!! In one day! Was I mentioned somewhere online that I don’t know about? Because oh my damn, I almost had a heartattack. I never expected an audience larger than 3 people. I’m gobsmacked.
I’m often asked “how I can put up” with Overshare, and the answer is simple: this blog. The process of writing a new story, posting it, and reading people’s response somehow validates the entire situation. I’m not alone; she really is crazy and I just happened to have the (mis)fortune to be employed at the same place. Sharing the madness with all of you makes it ok, and in fact, even turns it into a twisted kind of pleasure. I created the blog to record the events, almost as if to assure myself that it was really happening, and the fact that people have found it and even, gasp, like it… it’s more than I ever dreamed. And sometimes, especially when I see my blog listed in people’s favorites along with blogs like Amalah, or Dooce, or NewYorkHack… I feel like Wayne & Garth: I’m not worthy!
Thank you all for reading. I'll try not to crack under the pressure.
One day, Overshare came skipping, and I mean skipping into my office.
Anonymous: Well, you sure seem happy. Overshare: Oh, that's because I am. Anonymous: What happened? Overshare: CTF almost has the stuff with his daughter worked out. Anonymous: Oh, really? That's good news. He figured out his child support? Overshare: Nope. Even better! The mom is going to give her up for adoption! Anonymous: (silence) Overshare: Isn't that great news??! It means CTF will never have to worry about her again!! Anonymous: Her, who? Her, the mom or her, his own daughter? Overshare: The daughter of course! It'll be like it never happened! Anonymous: Kind of sucks for the daughter, though, don't you think? Overshare: Oh.
Now, I am 100% for adoption. Go, adoption! I know plenty of adopted kids who are fantastic and well-adjusted adults. And I do think that, perhaps, this poor little baby would be better off not knowing CTF, her crazy-ass father. But Holy Bad Priorities, Batman.
Sometimes, I feel like my office doubles as a game show set. Oh, but what would we name it? Who Wants to Buy TSS’s Crappy Stuff? The 64,000 Money Requests? $100,000 Pyramid Scheme?
And when it’s not doubling as a game show, my office is most definitely a daytime soap opera. That broadcasts on Telemundo. And, even though you don’t understand the language, you at least understand that all of their lives are drama, drama, and more drama all-the-live-long-day and will eventually end with twins (one naïve, one evil) battling over a felon who has memory loss and is a habitual liar. And somewhere in there, someone will discover he's really adopted and his biological mother is actually the "December" of his current May/December romance.
"Luckily," today is a game-show day.
Tyrannical: Guess what? Anonymous, bored already: What? Tyrannical: My sorority is trying to raise money. Anonymous: Sounds familiar. Tyrannical: Well, we're a really great organization and now we're raising money to help fund our annual party. Anonymous: How charitable. Tyrannical: So we're selling Entertainment Books.
Let's see here... Candles: $10-$15. Raffle Tickets: $1, or 6 for $5. Entertainment Books: Damn Expensive.
Oh, hell no. I am not buying one of these suckers.
Anonymous: Not today, thanks. Tyrannical: But it helps you save all kinds of money! Anonymous: Only if I lug that book around with me every where I go. Tyrannical: It pays for itself in just five uses, most of the time! Anonymous: I tend to forget I bought one after I use it twice.
She then begins to launch into the spiel-- exclusive online discounts! Help a good cause! $1,000s of savings! A coupon for everything!-- and I sit politely. Waiting.
Tyrannical: So, want to buy one? Anonymous: No, thanks. Tyrannical: I can't believe I wasted that speech on you.
Witty Comeback, you're the next contestant on The Price is Too Damn Much!
Overshare: I think I made a mistake last night. Anonymous: How so? Overshare: Well, I had been drinking… and I decided to call someone.
I don’t think I need to go into my thoughts on drunk-dialing here… there are plenty of blogs that have talked about the dangers and mishaps that have occurred in such instances. But an oversharing drunk dial? Priceless, I must say.
Anonymous: CTF? Overshare: No, he was with me. Anonymous: So who did you call? Overshare: Swedish Nanny. Anonymous: Oh. Overshare: Yeah. Anonymous: And CTF just let you do that? Overshare: He thought it was funny. Anonymous: Did she pick up? Overshare: Yeah. She thought it was CTF. Anonymous: What did you end up saying? Overshare: Something along the lines of “It must suck to be you.” Anonymous: Ouch. Overshare: Yeah… I think my exact words were, “It must suck to be you, knowing that your boyfriend is cheating on you. As in, he’s here. In my bed.” Anonymous: Wow. Overshare: Yeah. And then I laughed, I think. Anonymous: What did Swedish Nanny do? Overshare: I think she cried. Anonymous: That was really a mean thing to do. Overshare: I know. I feel kind of bad. But then, she took CTF away from me in the first place. She shouldn’t have done that.
Overshare: We decided on a theme for my birthday party. Anonymous: Uh-huh. Overshare: Ready? Anonymous: Sure. Overshare: Ready? Anonymous: Sure. Overshare: You sure? Anonymous: Yep. Overshare: Ready? Anonymous: Oh. My. God. Overshare: [dramatic pause] Anonymous: [dramatic eye roll] Overshare: Dukes of Hazzard. Anonymous: [blinks] Overshare: Isn’t that awesome?? Make sure you buy some Daisy Dukes and I’m going to try and get Boss Man to come as Boss Hog!!
Boss Man is my boss, obviously. As in, the head of our department. The guy who writes my evaluations. And what crackhead on earth thinks I’m going to wear Daisy Dukes, EVER? In front of Boss Man or not??
An Oversharing Crackhead, that’s who.
About an hour later, sure enough, I get an Evite to a Dukes of Hazzard birthday party. Also on the list? Boss Man, Ultimate Class, Wyoming and Tyrannical Sorority Sister. Along with CTF. And it comes complete with instructions on costumes: Daisy Dukes for the ladies and anything bearing a Confederate Flag for the men.
Doesn’t that just sound like the world’s worst idea for a birthday party ever?
Overshare: I hooked up with a new boy last night. Anonymous: What? Overshare: My boobs are going to be on the internet! Anonymous: What? Overshare: I was playing [Random Intramural Sport] last night and met this new boy. I was so trashed… and Wyoming kept going on and on about how we promised CTF that we’d go to Skank Bar after the game. So I brought Sporty along with us. CTF was so jealous, especially when Sporty followed me into the girls bathroom and we didn’t come out for a looooonnnnnggggg time. Anonymous: So, how does all of this end up with your boobs going on the internet? Overshare: Sporty has a myspace.
It’s Valentine’s Day. Ok, so no, not really. Not in real time. But in the Overshare-CTF timeline, it is.
I’m a little… biased, I guess when it comes to this particular holiday. I have always felt like it is over-the-top and excessive… but that may come from my high school experience. My high school took Valentine’s Day to the extreme. One might say it was excessive. (And by “one might” I mean, “one would”.) To give you an idea: my high school was set up in an “L” shape—one long hallway connected to a short, perpendicular hallway, by a hard-to-describe free space (which held our espresso stand.) Separating the halls from the “free space” were sets of doors. In preparation for Valentine’s Day, the janitors would REMOVE the doors.
Why, you ask?
Because how else were the girls supposed to get their GINORMOUS balloon bouquets, roses, and life-size stuffed animals from class to class?
I am not kidding. Oh how I wish I were.
By the time I was a senior, one day of Valentine’s was simply not enough… the doors would be removed for an entire week proceeding the actual day, because girls started getting deliveries all week long. An entire week of not being able to see the board or my teacher through the mass of red and pink helium balloons and an entire week of having class interrupted every ten minutes for a singing telegram from a man in an ape suit or a barbershop quartet.
The thing that always drove me crazy the most though was the fact that these girls simply did not care who their boyfriend was… if he hit her, or cheated on her, dealt drugs, or simply sat around like a lump on a log, none of it mattered as long as she got the largest balloon bouquet, a tiara, a quadrazillion roses or a pony and got to make the other girls jealous.
Appropriately horrified? Try being the ugly duckling or late bloomer in this crowd. It’s not fun; I speak from experience. But looking back on it, high school has actually done more to prepare me for working with Overshare than anything else.
Overshare, singing: It’s Valentine’s Day!! Anonymous: Yes, yes it is. Overshare: Is your boyfriend doing anything for you? Anonymous, confused: I don’t have a boyfriend. Overshare, giddily: Oh, that’s right. You don’t! Anonymous, irritated: You don’t either, if I recall. Overshare: Oh, well, I have someone who’s as good as one. Anonymous: Right. Overshare: CTF is coming to take me to lunch! And he’s already sent flowers! Anonymous, snickering to herself: Carnations again? Overshare: Nooooo. Roses. Six of ‘em. Anonymous: Nice. Overshare: Isn’t he? Anonymous: When is he coming? Overshare: Around 1.
Later, Overshare came back into my office. It was 2pm.
Anonymous: Back so soon? Overshare: Huh? Anonymous: I thought CTF was taking you to lunch. Overshare: He hasn’t come yet.
3pm.
Overshare: I can’t believe he’s not here yet.
4pm. Overshare: I can’t believe he’s not here yet.
4:30pm. Overshare: [seething]
5pm. Overshare: He’s not coming. Anonymous: What? Overshare: He’s. Not. Coming. Anonymous: Why? Overshare: He’s at work now. Anonymous: Oh. Overshare: I’m pissed. Anonymous: I can see why. Overshare: He didn’t even call! Anonymous: He definitely should have called. Overshare: Oh well, it’s not like you got flowers, is it?
