The Amazing Adventures of Overshare

Don't Think I Didn't Lysol My Monitor

2008-05-29T13:00:00.000-07:00

It's taken me a bit to work up the intestinal fortitude to write this particular incident up, but here goes.

I'm sitting in my office one day, as almost all of these posts start, minding my own business. It's been a particularly hard time for me at work-- lots of projects, demands on my time, general shifting of duties around our department, etc.-- so I've not been paying Overshare all that much attention, and she's been under some stress too so she hasn't been demanding all that much either. I must admit, it was nice. Nice to just come into work every day, do my work, and not have Drama all the live-long day.

I should have known it wouldn't last, but I could never imagine it would start back up like this.

Overshare walks in, puts her elbow on the top of my computer screen and proceeds to roll up her sleeve to well past her elbow.

Overshare: I either have ringworm or Lyme disease. Which does this look like to you?

And honestly, it looked like the foul Satan-child of both of these images:

(And before any of you get upset with me for posting such disgusting pictures, let me tell you: I did you a favor. Google-searching for images of ringworm is foul. FOUL, I tell you. Just sayin'.)

I WISH I was making this crap up, I really do. Have I mentioned that I'm not a doctor? Or a registered nurse? Why is she asking me for a diagnosis? I guess I should just be thankful The Nasty was on her arm, and not in a more... er... delicate region.

Anonymous: Uh... I don't know.
Overshare: Huh. Guess I should call my doctor.

But did she call her doctor? No. Have you forgotten who we're dealing with? Why call a health care professional when you can overshare and THEN call a health care professional?

No, she chose instead to ask EVERY. OTHER. EMPLOYEE. what this mysterious red circle could possibly be on her arm. She talked about which diagnosis was more likely all day, and at one point, printed out pictures of both issues (apparently that Google search didn't bother her at all) and held an impromptu comparison party with a group she accosted in the kitchen. Because nothing says "Mmmm... LUNCH!" like a highly communicable fungus or burrowing insects.

At the end of the day, she came back into my office, rolling her sleeve back down her arm.

Overshare: Jeez. I can't believe people in this office sometimes. You know that everyone spent all day talking about my arm? Don't they have work to do?

Perhaps She Should See An Analrapist...

2008-04-29T20:27:00.000-07:00

Any Arrested Development fans in the house?

Lord, I hope so.

A while ago, our company reorganized our offices and eventually it was decided that my desk would be very close to the desk of Oh My God I Loved It. So close that I'm not frequently subjected to overhearing her conversations. Now, while I had become very, very well-versed in her opinion of certain religions... I had no idea that she was actually Tobias Funke, in disguise. She has a habit of getting certain words of popular sayings completely wrong.

Most of Oh My God I Loved It's unfortunate word choices happen when she's speaking to her boss, which let me tell you, makes not laughing out loud that much harder. A small sampling of the hilarity, with her intended meaning in brackets:

OMGILI: Boss, sometimes I just can't wrap my hands around you! [I can't wrap my mind around your idea.]

OMGILI, fanning herself in embarrassment: Boss, you're making me so hot! [You're making me blush.]

OMGILI: It's one of those International Bachelorette programs. [I'm not entirely sure, but here's hoping she meant "International Baccalaureate."]

OMGILI, to coworker: Well, Boss Man owes you a big fat one, doesn't he? [Your boss owes you a favor for doing that project.]

I swear though, if she starts showing up in cut-off jean shorts, I'm so out of here.

Uh.... Thanks?

2008-02-05T10:01:00.000-08:00

So, just to remind you... I work in an office of crazy people. Granted, their level of craziness doesn't come anywhere close to challenging Overshare for the championship, but I have some random ass conversations with other coworkers as well.

Case in Point:

Oh-My-God-I-Loved-It: Oh my God. I love your sweater.
Anonymous Coworker: Thanks.
OMGILI: It's such a pretty color.
Anonymous Coworker: Thanks-- my mom bought it for me.
OMGILI: Is that a tank top underneath?
Anonymous Coworker: Yeah, it's got snowflakes on it...
OMGILI: You know.... you really could have gone without it; we all love your cleave.
Anonymous Coworker: ...................

Define "Stupid Reason"

2008-01-28T09:48:00.000-08:00

Hmmm.... so apparently, you all noticed that I hadn't posted in, say, forever. Guess that means I should say something about it.

I think I've been dealing with a little bit of empathy for poor old Overshare. Got a little too close to my subject, and lost a little perspective on just how WHACK she is. Never fear, dear readers... I've regained that perspective. Hence, I'm back. Turns out I just needed a good conversation with Witty Comeback about the Crazy, and the muse returned.

Lots of you have asked about the birthday party mentioned a couple of posts ago, for which Overshare purchased all the jello. I didn't attend. No, luckily, I had a family friend come into town that weekend and was thus spared the horror. I DID get to hear all about it. Or at least, I got to hear the interesting part.

Overshare: So, I think I need to move out of my apartment with Wyoming.
Anonymous: Why?
Overshare: Well, after that party this weekend... Wyoming has forbidden CTF from coming over!
Anonymous: Oh, dear... what did he do?
Overshare: WHY DOES EVERYONE ASSUME HE DID SOMETHING?
Anonymous: Er... because it doesn't make much sense for Wyoming to forbid him from coming over without having done something?
Overshare: Whatever. She's crazy.
Anonymous: She really did it without any reason at all?
Overshare: Well, she has a stupid reason. But that's it. A STUPID REASON.
Anonymous: What's the stupid reason?
Overshare: He peed on the carpet.
Anonymous: [silence.]
Overshare: In the living room.
Anonymous: [silence.]
Overshare: With everyone still there.
Anonymous: [silence.]
Overshare: But he was REALLY drunk!

Those must have been some AWESOME jello shots.

New "Ass"istant

2008-01-15T14:25:00.000-08:00

One afternoon, Overshare and Toolshed ran into my office.

Overshare and Toolshed, in unison: Guess what?? We’re having a baby!!

This statement gave me a mini-heart attack. And then subsequently gave me an incredibly strong urge to stab out my own eyes. It’s not a pretty mind-picture to have, these two procreating, much less with each other.

But by this point, I’ve grown quite accustomed to Overshare’s random utterances that are meant to shock me into asking for clarification. So I just sat and looked at the two of them, waiting for the inevitable explanation.

Overshare and Toolshed, in unison again: We hired our new assistant!!

Yes, Dear Readers, I’m pleased to present to you Overshare and Toolshed’s new mutual assistant, Pompous McLaterson IV. Despite how real that name sounds, I promise, I made it up. And in order to get the job, you might remember, he must have spoken only in phrases at his interview.

Pompous McLaterson IV started the very next day. Apparently, he’s been unemployed for a while and is eager to start. He is a nice-enough guy, if slightly pompous... but only in that freshly-graduated "I'm going to change the world by the sheer force of my will and brilliance" naive way. Unfortunately for him, hell, unfortunately for us all, it didn’t take long for the oddities to begin.

At one point on his first day, Overshare was in my office (oversharing of course) when Pompous came in with a question. Quite normal for a new employee to have a question for his supervisor on his first day. He asked, she answered, he left.

He wasn’t two steps away from my door when it all began.

Overshare, loudly: Isn’t he so odd-looking?
Anonymous: What?
Overshare: Pompous! He’s just… ODD-looking.

It should be noted that Pompous was in NO WAY odd-looking. In fact, he was rather attractive.

Anonymous: I wouldn’t classify it as Odd, per se.
Overshare: Oh, it’s ODD. Something about his face.
Anonymous: What about his face?
Overshare: It’s ODD.

And that's it. That's all she'd say. Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh DEAR. Overshare calling him “odd-looking” really had only one meaning. She thought he was attractive, and wanted someone else to say it first. When I refused to say it, she walked all around the office, polling everyone as to whether they felt Pompous was, in fact, as odd-looking as she had deemed.

There is NO WAY IN HELL this is going to end well.

Grape or Red?

2007-10-15T18:44:00.000-07:00

Overshare: I just sent you an email.

I hate it when she does that-- sends me an email and then walks directly into my office to discuss it. I guess I'd rather have a least a moment to process whatever it is she's sent before I'm forced to talk about it.

Overshare: Is it there yet?
Anonymous: Nope.

[Awkward pause.]

Overshare: Now?
Anonymous: Nope.

[Awkward pause.]

Overshare: What about...
Anonymous: All right, it's here. An evite?
Overshare: YEP! FOR MY BIRTHDAY!
Anonymous: But isn't your birthday in two months?
Overshare: Yes! Two months from today exactly!
Anonymous: A little early for an evite, isn't it?
Overshare: Oh, well you know I love to plan.
Anonymous: Right.
Overshare: All right, so reply!
Anonymous: What?
Overshare: REPLY!
Anonymous: Well, I'm not sure what my schedule is going to look like in two months...
Overshare: Well, now you know what you're doing on the 21st! RSVP!
Anonymous: I was thinking about going out of town...
Overshare: Just go a different weekend! RSVP, NOW!
Anonymous: Why the urgency?
Overshare: I need to know how much jello to buy for the jello shots!

The One with the Voicemails

2007-09-18T13:09:00.000-07:00

I know, I KNOW! I’ve been gone so long!! I didn’t mean to abandon the blog… I guess I just hit a mental roadblock. But fear not, faithful readers, there are still stories to share, and I’m feeling the mojo again. Thanks to all of you who emailed and asked if I was dead, or perhaps in prison awaiting trial for killing a coworker. For the record, I am neither.

Overshare: I’m totally going to go see a movie with CTF tonight. It’s like the first time in weeks! We’ve mostly been spending our nights in. I’m so ready to DO something!
Anonymous: Hmm.
Overshare: Yeah, it’s going to be great. A movie!
Anonymous: [Silence.]
Overshare: [Cell phone rings] Oh, one sec. [Checks phone.] It’s CTF! [Answers cell phone.]

Yes, she answered her cell phone in my office. Because, you know, why wouldn’t I want to hear all the details about their upcoming date?

Overshare: Hey, sweetie-cutie-pie-pie.

And YES, she really did call him that. The double “pie” and everything. You’re not alone—it made me vomit in my mouth a little too.

Overshare: Oh? Why can’t you do the later movie? You always like the later movies… oh… well, I kinda promised Wyoming I would drive her out to the Boondocks tonight before our movie, and since I’ve bailed on her a lot recently it wouldn’t be very wise… wait! You seriously can’t GO?? WHY CAN’T YOU GO?!!?!? WE’VE PLANNED THIS FOR WEEKS! [Long silence.] WHAT PAPER WORK?... PAPER WORK?... PAPER! WORK?!

Apparently, CTF can’t go to a late movie because he was “paper work” to do. You tell me… exactly how much paperwork do you think a bouncer has?

Overshare: FINE. WHATEVER. [Hangs up, storms out of my office without a word.]

I thought that would be the end of this particular overshare. Little did I know there would be a sequel waiting for me the next morning… Literally. As in, Overshare was sitting in my office the next morning, waiting for me.

Overshare: You WILL NOT BELIEVE the night I had last night.
Anonymous: No, I probably won’t.
Overshare: So, remember how he cancelled on me to do “paperwork?”
Anonymous: Vaguely.
Overshare: So, check this… I dropped Wyoming off out in the Boondocks last night, and got a little lost on my way home… so the next thing I know, I realize that I’m actually really close to CTF’s house.

Reality Check: Anyone believe her story so far? Yeah, me neither.

Anonymous: Convenient.
Overshare: Yeah. So, I realized that CTF had left some stuff in my car from our little trip a couple of weeks ago, and thought I’d do the nice thing and drop them off… since I was in the area and all.
Anonymous: Right.
Overshare: So I call CTF: no answer. I call him again, because he’s only supposed to be doing paperwork, right? Again, no answer. So then I call the home phone, and his dad picked up… and would you even BELIEVE what he told me?
Anonymous: Uhh…. That CTF wasn’t around?
Overshare: EXACTLY!
Anonymous: So then what?
Overshare: I call his cell phone AGAIN, and this time I leave a really irate message. REALLY IRATE. And he doesn’t call me back!
Anonymous: Wow.
Overshare: Yeah. But then, about an hour later… I started to feel really bad, because, you know, maybe he ran out to grab something to eat or something… so I hacked into his voicemail to delete the message.

Wait a second… doesn’t this sound vaguely reminiscent of a Friends episode? You know, where Monica calls Richard and leaves the “breezy” voicemail (“Breezy… I’m BREEZY!”) only to regret it, then tries to hack in to delete it…

Overshare: But then, I listened to his other messages, which included one from this chick JULIE, wondering where he was because SHE was at the movie theater, WAITING FOR HIM!
Anonymous: Wow… so what did you do?
Overshare: I deleted HER message and left mine.
Anonymous: That’s horrible.
Overshare: Whatever. I own the damn phone anyway.

My favorite part of the whole thing? Clearly, CTF was trying to set up a multiple date situation that night... attempted to move Overshare to an early movie so he could see Julie later. I wonder if Overshare ever caught on to that.

And finally, a Private Message to an Unknown Googler:
Seriously, take my advice: googling something like “Dylan & Cole Sprouse LATE BLOOMERS!!!!! SEX!” is only going to get you on an FBI watch list or something. Because… just… ew. Knock it off. Do you really want to end up meeting Chris Hansen in a well-lit kitchen someday?

Because Why Should They Stop at Bail?

2007-08-16T02:40:00.000-07:00

Overshare: Well, I FINALLY decided what to buy CTF for his birthday. After MUCH debate.

Might I suggest this? It does combine two odditites into one!

Oh no. A small, quirky gift recalling a private joke? That's simply too mundane for Overshare to give her non-boyfriend bouncer sex partner/best friend!! (Who, I'd like to remind everyone, once gave her a used pair of men's rollerskates.)

Overshare: Yeah, I decided to give him a cell phone.
Anonymous: A CELL PHONE??!
Overshare: Yeah... he hasn't had one in years because he never used to pay the bill and it got shut off. And it's just SO HARD to reach him sometimes! So I figured a cell phone would take care of that!
Anonymous: What makes you think he'll pay the bill now?
Overshare: Oh, well... I'm just going to add him to my plan so I don't have to worry about it.
Anonymous: So you're going to be paying for his service too? That's quite a birthday gift.
Overshare: That's the best part! Technically, my parents pay for my service-- they gave me a phone for Christmas and said they'd pay for the service for two years. So I'm just adding him to that!

The Joys of a 30-Day Return Policy

2007-08-03T08:37:00.000-07:00

I have a friend who is consistently hit on by an inordinate amount of cab drivers, who all decide to use their time while driving her to her location grilling her about her dating status in a misguided attempt to either A.) set her up with their son/cousin/nephew/best friend's son's best friend or B.) convince her to go on a date with the cab driver himself. Like most women who find themselves in these situations, she eventually began to tell the cab drivers when it became obvious that they were going to go one of those two routes (usually beginning with the dreaded "So... meeting your boyfriend?" feeler question) that yes, indeed she was meeting her boyfriend, who just so happened to be a huge former rugby player who now is a high-powered lawyer dealing in sexual harassment cases, mostly, why do you ask?

But then, she found something even better, completely by chance one day: wearing a ring (ANY ring) on her ring finger of her left hand generally made the cab driver not even ask about her dating status. She went online, looked around and found a nice, tasteful, absolutely fake engagement ring that she put in her purse and only takes it out to wear when riding in a cab. Problem solved.

This friend is NOT Overshare. Oh no.

Overshare: Oh my GAWD, Anonymous!! LOOK!! [Shoves left hand in my face.]
Anonymous: [chokes] Please, please, PLEASE tell me that's not an engagement ring.

This wasn't just any engagement ring, either. No. It was mammoth. HUGE. Remember that big yellow diamond that Ben Affleck bought Jennifer Lopez when they were caught up in the throws of the dreaded Bennifer public relations circus? Overshare's ring was that ring's wicked stepsister.

Overshare: Isn't it BEAUTIFUL??!?!
Anonymous: No, seriously-- please tell me that's not an engagement ring.
Overshare: I love it SO much! [Shakes left hand in my face again.]
Anonymous: You DID NOT agree to marry CTF. You didn't.
Overshare: Are you EVEN kidding?? Of COURSE I didn't!
Anonymous: So what's with the ring?
Overshare: Oh, CTF and I decided to go ring shopping, just for kicks.
Anonymous: Really?
Overshare: Yeah! It was so fun! We went to that Diamond Outlet over in Suburbia. We totally acted like we were getting engaged! We acted like we were completely poor and couldn't really afford anything... the salesman felt so bad, he gave us a GREAT deal on this cubic zirconia one... so CTF totally decided to buy it! And then he got down on one knee and fake-proposed right there in the store! It was hilarious!
Anonymous: So, technically, you DID agree to marry him?
Overshare: Well, as a JOKE, not like for real or anything!
Anonymous: Of course not.
Overshare: It doesn't really matter anyway. CTF is going to take it back this week and tell the salesman that we broke up. I just wanted to wear it one more time.

Another Case of the Hee Hee Hees

2007-07-19T04:29:00.000-07:00

First thing one random morning, Overshare stood in my doorway. I was turning on my computer and just doing that general morning preparedness routine that for some reason ALWAYS includes me having to untangle my phone cord after the fairies who apparently raid my office during the night put it into knots again.

Overshare: Hee hee hee.
Anonymous: Good morning, Overshare.
Overshare: Hee hee hee.
Anonymous: You seem entertained.
Overshare: Hee hee hee.
Anonymous: Anything you want to share?
Overshare: Want some of my lunch??

Yes, that's an odd question to ask first thing in the morning. You aren't mistaken. I thought so too, until I looked up and saw that she was brandishing a lunch box, clearly meaning to show me the lunch box and figuring the only way to do that was to offer me some food from it.

And when I say lunch box, I mean it. Not a brown paper bag. Not one of those insulated reusable earth-friendly thingy-ma-whatsa-whosits. Nope. A LUNCH BOX. And no, Overshare is not six years old. Or ten, even. Hell, she's not even that super annoying fake-quirky cheerleader you remember from high school who created random phobias for herself and carried around hair clips and makeup in a Betty Boop lunch box so that people would think she was "endearing."

She's just a twenty-something "Professional." So why she feels the need to carry this

around with her for two full weeks, I'll never know. But she did.

Overshare: Isn't it Flippin' Sweet?
Anonymous: It's a lunch box.
Overshare: EXACTLY!
Anonymous: Wow.
Overshare: Oh, whatever. You know you want a lunch box as cool as mine.

I tried to find a lunch box I would even CONSIDER carrying around, should someone decide to bet me $100 to do it. Only one was even a contender: a Kurt Cobain Memorial Lunch Box, because it seems to be the height of irony to me. Personally, I'm just dying to buy this one for Oh My God I Loved It:

Because, not ONLY is it a lunch box... oh, no. It's a PAINT BY NUMBER lunch box.

And since it's simply TOO RIDICULOUS to ignore, check out the description of the Last Supper Lunch Box, straight from the website: "The original Last Supper is unquestionably one of the greatest paintings of all time, but who hasn't looked at it and said, "Eh, I could do better than that." That's where the Paint-by-Numbers Last Supper Longbox comes in. This 11.25" wide, 5" tall, and 2.25" deep metal longbox gives you the power and glory of Jesus' last meal mixed with the blurry kitsch of homemade art. With metal fixtures and a black plastic handle. A bit too narrow for carrying a full-size lunch; but great for carrying communion breadsticks."

Because I know when I look at a painting by LEONARDO FREAKING DA VINCI, I think "Eh, I could do better." I mean, really? Vitruvian Man? A ten-year-old can do that with an Etch-a-Sketch. And don't even get me started on that hack Michelangelo. The Sistine Chapel? It's only a FREAKING CEILING, PEOPLE! He didn't even have to tape off any windows!

And "Communion Breadsticks?" Need I even ask?

Rock and a Hard Place

2007-07-08T18:55:00.000-07:00

Overshare: CTF IS GOING TO JAAAIIIILLLLL!

Is it just me, or have we heard this all before?

Anonymous: Again? Wait, what happened now?
Overshare: Oh, I can't even talk about it. It's THAT bad.
Anonymous: Oh. Well...
Overshare: So, you remember all the drama, right? The flask and the hearing and the crazy-ass judge?
Anonymous: Oh, I remember.
Overshare: Remember his very first court date?
Anonymous: Yep.
Overshare: Well, ever since that first trial, he's been going to court-ordered psych sessions, and his counselor guy started to think that he was withholding something, which is complete nonsense. CTF hasn't done ANYTHING wrong since then. Anything. But the guy won't believe him, so he totally reported back to the first judge that CTF should be ordered to take a lie detector test! And so now he TOTALLY HAS to take this stupid thing.
Anonymous: Wow.
Overshare: Oh, that's not even the worst part.
Anonymous: Oh?
Overshare: Nope. The worst part?
Anonymous: Yes?
Overshare: CTF totally WANTED to take the test, begged his lawyer to let him take it, because he DIDN'T. DO. ANYTHING. But his lawyer made this huge stink about the whole thing, how it's a violation of his civil rights, yadda yadda. And that just pissed off the judge.
Anonymous: So what's the big deal? He's taking the test, just like he wanted.
Overshare: Yes, but NOW that the lawyer made such a big thing about it, the judge is making CTF spend the night BEFORE in jail! And it's scheduled for the EXACT SAME DAY as the whole flask appeal thing in that other town!! He can't possibly do both!
Anonymous: Can't his lawyer ask to rearrange the appeal?
Overshare: Oh, yeah, because THAT judge was reasonable. He'll hear WHY we need to postpone the thing and flip right the hell out.
Anonymous: Wow.
Overshare, wailing: CTF IS GOING TO JAAAIILLLLLLLL! AGAIN!

All Day Oddity: Part Deux

2007-06-20T15:00:00.000-07:00

I'm in my office, minding my own business when I hear the soft strands of a melody coming out of a computer's speakers...

I got my first real six-string...bought it at the five and dime...
Played it till my fingers bled... IT WAS THE SUMMER OF '69!!!!!!

"Ok," I remember thinking to myself, "That's kind of random." Little did I know what I was in for. This, my friends, was the start of my next All Day Oddity. This was the fateful day that I would endure All Day Oddity: Bryan Adams' Day. I shit you not.

About ten minutes after Summer of '69, a sweet refrain came from the other end of my office, blasted full volume from a different computer...

I'm gonna run to you
I'm gonna run to you
Cause when the feelings right
I'm gonna run all night
I'm gonna run to you

Overshare and Wyoming apparently heard Summer of '69 in their car on their way to work. Overshare commented on how much she hated Bryan Adams in general; Wyoming was offended and apparently argued his merits the entire way into the office. In order to prove to Overshare just how wrong she was to dislike him, she decided to "educate" Overshare by playing Summer of '69 again in her office, loud enough for Overshare to hear. Overshare took offense and decided (in what can only be termed an act of SHEER BRILLIANCE) to get her "revenge" by.... playing Bryan Adams back to her? What?? (And not to mention the, oh, TEN PEOPLE who sit between their two offices.) It went on all day, ping-ponging back and forth between their two offices at various volumes.

I found myself going into a Zen-like trance. And I believe that my soul communicated with Bryan Adams that day on a new plane of existence. I'll recount the conversation here. (Bryan's part of the conversation appears in Italics.)

Baby you're all that I want
When you're lyin' here in my arms
I'm findin' it hard to believe
We're in heaven

You're finding it hard to believe that we're in heaven? Really, Bryan?? I wonder if that's because they CLEARLY only have BRYAN ADAMS' DAY in Hell.

One night love affair
Tryin' to make like we don't care
We were both reachin' out for somethin'
One night love affair
Pretendin' it ain't there

Bryan, I never wanted a one night anything. So I agree, I've been pretending that you aren't there. But if you insist on calling this atrocity a love affair: PLEASE let this be a one night love affair. Because two days will make me puncture my own ear drums with a pencil.

Can't stop this thing we started
You gotta know it's right
Can't stop this course we've plotted
This thing called love we got it
No place for the brokenhearted

I'm really going to have to insist that you TRY here, Bryan. TRY to stop this thing YOU started. Don't go dragging me down into your mess. This is not my fault.

You gotta ride your broom right into my room
Kick off your shoes, make yourself at home
Wave your little wand - weave a little spell
Make a little magic - raise some hell
There will never be another tonight

I know that you did NOT just call me a WITCH, Bryan Guy Adams. (Yes, I researched your middle name, even if you apparently don't use it! I'm THAT serious about this!) On top of all THIS CRAZINESS, I KNOW THAT YOU DID NOT JUST CALL ME A WITCH! I'm a girl on the EDGE here, BRYAN!

Please forgive me I know not what I do
Please forgive me I can't stop loving you
Don't deny me this pain I'm going through
Please forgive me I need you like I do
Please believe me every word I say is true
Please forgive me I can't stop loving you

Hmph. Fine. I forgive you. But just this once, because damn, that's quite the apology.

Oh - you can't tell me it's not worth tryin' for
I can't help it - there's nothin' I want more
I would fight for you - I'd lie for you
Walk the wire for you - yeah, I'd die for you
Ya know it's true
Everything I do - I do it for you

Hey there, pal. Don't push your luck. That's the cheesiest song ever written and I know you sing it to everyone, even your Grandma's Bridge team.

The Very Essence of Professionalism

2007-06-07T00:05:00.000-07:00

Overshare: You will not BELIEVE what just happened.
Anonymous: What happened?
Overshare: I had an interview for Toolshed's and my new assistant this morning.
Anonymous: Oh. Right.
Overshare: Yeah. So just now, I was up in HR, talking over the candidate with HR Crony. You will not BELIEVE what she had the nerve to say to me.

I haven't mentioned HR Crony before, but there's not really all that much to say. A perfectly nice, considerate person who rather unfortunately began working in our office at almost the exact same time that Overshare did, which led to the two of them being very close friends for a good long while. Eventually though, HR Crony began to tire of the constant oversharing and slowly phased Overshare out of her inner circle of friends. At the time that all of this happened, HR Crony was in stage one of the phase out, and Overshare was highly perplexed over the development.

Anonymous: What did she say?
Overshare: We were just sitting there, chatting... I had mentioned a whole ton of good things about the candidate. Her experience is good, she's very articulate, she seems to really want to work here. So after all of that good stuff, I just mentioned that maybe, PERHAPS, the candidate was a tad wee bit formal in their approach.
Anonymous: Formal?
Overshare: Yeah. Like, stood when we entered the room and spoke in complete sentences all the time. That kind of formal.
Anonymous: So?
Overshare: I just thought it might be slightly creepy, is all.
Anonymous: Creepy how?
Overshare: Well, you know... I'm kind of a laid back person. I'm sure I'll be a laid back boss. It might be weird to have such a formal person working under me.
Anonymous: Yes, well...
Overshare: Anyway, so I'm perfectly nice about everything and just mention this one tiny thing. You know what HR Crony said?
Anonymous: What?
Overshare: She said, and I quote, "Are you sure you're not just intimidated by how professional she is?" What the hell is that supposed to mean?
Anonymous: Well...
Overshare, yelling: I'm professional! Really! I'M SO PROFESSIONAL! I'm the CONSUMMATE professional! [beat] Wait... did I use "consummate" correctly?

Somehow, yelling "I'm professional" in an office seems counter-productive to me. It's like yelling "I'm quiet! I'm damn near silent!" in a library or "Hey! Stop looking at me!" in a crowded restaurant.

That's the Sound of the Man...

2007-05-30T18:45:00.000-07:00

The day after one of Overshare's Self-Appointed-Social-Secretary Work Happy Hours, she came into my office wearing huge sunglasses, and what I'm pretty sure were the same pants she was wearing the day before.

Overshare: Oh my GAWD, Anonymous! Did you see the DRAH-MA last night?

Anonymous: Well, I was only there for about a half hour... why? What happened?

Overshare, singing: Draaaaaaaah-maaaaaaaa!

Anonymous: Ah.

Overshare: Toolshed's Wife is so freaking dumb.

Anonymous: Really?

Overshare: Yeah! I tried so hard, SO HARD, to be nice to her, Anonymous. I followed her and Toolshed all over the freaking bar, trying to talk to her, and she wouldn't even acknowledge my existence! I mean, sheez! What does a girl have to do to get noticed around here?

What does one have to do, indeed.

Anonymous: Well, you are rather hard to ignore, I'll give you that.

Overshare: Exactly! So she was totally doing it on purpose!

Anonymous: [silence]

Overshare: I'm going over to Toolshed's office right now to tell him that he needs to teach his dog, oops, I mean his wife, some manners.

Have I ever mentioned that Overshare is nothing if not classy?

Overshare: I mean, come on!! I'm like the world's least intimidating person ever! I'm SO easy to talk to!

Anonymous: Ok.

Overshare: And anyway, it's not like I'm there in the corner, banging away with her husband or anything.

Anonymous: No, it's not.

Overshare, pantomiming sex: Uhhh. Uhh. Uh! Uh! Uh! Uh!! Ooooh, Toolshed!

Anonymous: Please don't.

Overshare, stopping mid-act: What?

Anonymous: That. Please don't.

Overshare: Whatever. That's what I'm saying-- it's not like I'm jumping her husband in a dark corner or anything. I mean, it's a no brainer, really. Toolshed or CTF? As if that's even a contest. I mean, who would you choose, for goodness' sake?

Oh, Dear Lord, three things I pray: To see thee more clearly... to love thee more dearly... and to never, ever have to choose between Toolshed and CTF. For any reason. Ever. It's like choosing to either get VD on purpose or to stab out one's own eye from boredom.

WikiGoogle

2007-05-17T07:18:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since I've posted about the Google Antics that bring people by this blog. This is my ultimate favorite thing to monitor about the blog, really... because DAMN, people use search engines for some funny stuff.

For example:

What does a handbag say about a lady?
Why, we all know handbags are dirty rotten lying scoundrels who, when given a chance, reveal all of a lady's deepest darkest secrets. As if you needed to ask Google that.

Funnies of the horrible coworkers
Something about this (the syntax? The word "funnies?" The fact that they used the article "the"?) makes me giggle. It seems like a phrase that my grandmother would have used in a search engine.

Fake cell phone stalker
Wait a second: is the cell phone fake? The stalker? Color me confused.

I overheard you guys are looking for a nanny.
Because I know that when I look for a nanny, the first thing that on my list of requirements is "Eavesdropper." Right up there with "Dates a felon."

Should I take a sick day?
I love that someone out there treats Google like a Magic 8 Ball.

Boss Man's Last Known Joke

2007-05-10T01:55:00.000-07:00

The scene: our whole department is sitting in a conference room, trying to stay awake during a particularly boring meeting. And let me tell you, in order for one of our meetings to stick out in your memory because it was boring means that it was on a level of mundane thus far unbeknown to man. Add that to the fact that Boss Man had scheduled this particular meeting very, very close to Close of Business on a Friday, and you can see why the staff may have been a bit more perturbed at attending a boring meeting than usual.

And that leads me to say, with a small amount of sincerity: Thank God for Overshare.

Boss Man: And so... blah blah blah... blah blahtery blah.... and that should about wrap things up.
Group: [half of group wakes up, other half releases a collective relieved sigh]
Boss Man: Anyone else have anything they need to talk about or ask?
Group: [shoot Dagger Glares around the table, half-daring anyone to speak up and prolong the meeting]
Boss Man: No? Nothing?
New Colleague, Recently Relocated: I was just wondering... [group hastens to aim their Dagger Glares at her, she withers slightly] do we ever meet for dinners or anything, you know, off-site? To talk about strategy? Get to know each other?
Group: [grumbles]
Boss Man: Err... not really.
NC,RR: Oh. Well, maybe we should start.
Group: [collective sigh, everyone checks watches, rolls eyes]
Boss Man: Well... [decides a very, very rare attempt at a joke might break the tension] Overshare has a whole list of nightspots in her repertoire. Maybe she's willing to share.
Group: [Laughs nervously]
Overshare: I don't know what you're talking about, Boss Man!
Boss Man: I just thought that with your extensive social life...
Overshare, offended: I have no social life! I'm too busy keeping CTF out of jail!

Ok... how out of control does your Oversharing have to be for your BOSS to label your social life "extensive?" I would have died of embarrassment, and that Keeping My Boyfriend Out of Jail excuse? Yeah, I would have kept that to myself.

I Think He Missed the Point

2007-05-03T02:30:00.000-07:00

About midday on Monday afternoons, Overshare basically decides she is done with work for the day. She spends the rest of her time in the office annoying people. It's prime Ovesharing time, apparently. And who'd want to waste that?

One particular Monday afternoon, Overshare decided to grace my office for the better part of TWO HOURS. To be honest, I can't recall the conversation. I know what you're thinking: "Then what the hell kind of blog post is THIS??"

Well, it would be a crappy one, if Overshare didn't redeem the time:

Overshare, standing to leave (finally): Hey, here.
Anonymous: What's that?

[Overshare reaches out with her hand and gives me something.]

Overshare: I just want you to know, if you ever need anything, I'm here for you.
Anonymous: What's this?
Overshare: Look at it.
Anonymous: Is this?
Overshare: It's an AA coin!
Anonymous: You're going to AA?
Overshare: NO! Why would I do that?
Anonymous: Err...
Overshare: No, CTF was ordered by the courts to go to AA. It's his coin. He gave it to me, and I'm giving it to you!
Anonymous: Uh..... thanks?
Overshare: It's hysterical. CTF and I always go out right before his meetings... he likes to go in just a little bit drunk. He says it makes them easier to stand.
Anonymous: Hmmm.
Overshare: Isn't that hilarious?
Anonymous: Well...
Overshare: Anyway, I'm here for you if you need me.
Anonymous: Good to know.

I've already documented CTF's potential belt buckle flasks... but now, I'd like to introduce you to another product that I think could come in handy. If you're an alcoholic looking for a fix at your AA meeting, that is.

And since I like to think it my duty to keep you all well-informed on any potential clothing apparel that doubles as an alcoholic container, may I introduce, the Shoe Flask. (And no, I am not kidding.)

You can read some pretty hilarious comments here: Shoe Flask.

The End(ish) of the Promotion Drama

2007-04-26T02:18:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the delay in posting... I have no excuses, really, other than my non-anonymous life has been uncharacteristically hectic and I battled a brief period of writer's block.

I could cry you a river, I know.

So after a month or two of careful debate by Boss Man, which of course meant two months of having more of my favorite Overshare vs. Smoking-Know-It-All office battles, he finally came to a decision.

He promoted Overshare.

Oh yes, you read correctly. The "Let's Talk Discharge (DISCHARGE!)" oversharing bane of my work existence was actually PROMOTED.

As in, got a better job and a pay raise. Even though she tells grossly inappropriate stories and has a back-story that would make even Maury Povich shake his head and say "Damn, girl. What kind of crazy are you?"

She didn't even let the ink dry on her new contract before she moved her stuff into her new office. And Smoking Know It All? Oh, she wigged. She wigged right the hell out.

Now her little involuntary-confinement pow-wows were held all the live-long day, and she was throwing all kinds of accusations out against the company. Age-ism. They looked at her medical history and turned her down because of a past mental breakdown. She was simply too GOOD at her current job, and her boss had basically FIST FOUGHT Boss Man over her. You know, the standards.

And what did Overshare think of all of this?

Oh, nothing. She had much more important things to worry about.

Like, say... hiring her new assistant.

Oh, I said it. Hiring. Her. Assistant.

Does the very idea strike fear into your heart?

Things actually got even better from there. Overshare convinced Boss Man to restructure a little bit... meaning her new assistant would actually report to TWO people.

Overshare and Toolshed.

Can you even imagine the annual review those two would lead?

Did Satisfaction Really Ever Bring the Cat Back?

2007-04-12T01:47:00.000-07:00

There's this special breed of Overshare that I like to call the All-Day Oddity.

The All-Day Oddity is one of those overshares that lasts the entire workday, usually around an event that will be taking place once work is over, which Overshare simply cannot keep herself from talking about incessantly to everyone in our entire company. But ever since Wyoming came to work here, these happen more and more frequently, and on a weird level, her presence has made the All-Day Oddities more annoying for the fact that they're no longer shared directly. Oh no, we're forced to hear Overshare talk about it to Wyoming all day long in a loud voice, instead of enduring fifteen minutes in our office at a reasonable volume. And it seems that I've now become so inoculated to the oversharing that I actually prefer to hear them straight from her. Implausible, ridiculous, insane but true.

Heaven help us all.

The best (or worst, depending on how you look at it) example of the All-Day Oddity happened a few months back, when Overshare and Wyoming came into work already talking about the Oddity. There's nothing like hearing a sound bite of your day-long soundtrack before you've even started the engine on the coffee maker.

Overshare, holding the door open for Wyoming: I wonder what it could be!
Wyoming: Who knows, with CTF it could be anything!
Overshare: It's heavy.
Wyoming: That's what he said.
Overshare: What's so heavy that he can't carry it?
Wyoming: That's the mystery.

You may be asking yourself: "What exactly were Anonymous Coworker's thoughts during this exchange?" I believe it went something like: Oh dear God, please not that. Not a MYSTERY! It's like an All-Day Oddity on crack!

Every ten minutes or so, Overshare would walk by my office on her way to talk with Wyoming. Or vice versa.

Overshare: It's killing me!
Wyoming: Me too!
Overshare: Why is he being so cryptic?
Wyoming: Well, that's CTF for you.

(Ten minutes pass.)

Wyoming: Maybe we're going to a movie?
Overshare: He said it was heavy.
Wyoming: Hmm. It's definitely something then.
Overshare: Yes.

(Ten minutes pass.)

Overshare: Okay, what exactly did he say??
Wyoming: I already TOLD you. He said to come by after work because he had something heavy for us.
Overshare: That's it?
Wyoming: That's it.
Overshare: Heavy.
Wyoming: Heavy.

(Ten glorious minutes of silence pass too quickly.)

Overshare: Too heavy?
Wyoming: Yeah, too heavy to take home himself.
Overshare: Huh.

Dear God,
Why did you make the work day 8 hours long when you knew I'd someday have to endure this?
Love, Anonymous

But really and truly, the absolute WORST part of the All-Day Oddity is that there is no resolution to be found. Whatever it is that is consuming their entire day of conversation isn't going to happen until work is over, which means I am then left with just two options:

Option A.) I can endure 8 hours of hearing about something dressed up in as much intrigue as humanly possible only to never know the outcome.

Option B.) I can ask what happened the next day during work, thus bringing upon myself another hour or two wasted to the oversharing that is sure to result as well as giving the impression that I'm actually interested in these things and therefore want to hear more about them when they happen.

Forgive me, but I don't really find either of these options appealing. More often than not though, I admit to choosing Option B, for the simple facts that I like stories that have conclusions and also that I write this blog.

So, the day after All-Day Oddity: The Heavy Conversations I chose Option B. When I saw Overshare and Wyoming the next morning, I braced myself for the worst and asked.

Anonymous: So, did you find out what that heavy stuff CTF had for you was?
Overshare: Oh. My. God.
Anonymous: What?
Wyoming: CTF is such a freaking ROCK STAR.
[Wyoming and Overshare break into hysterical laughter.]
Anonymous: Okay...
Overshare: [Launches into a long, completely unnecessary recap of The Heavy Conversations before finally getting to the point.] ...So we drove over to Skank Bar after work, and CTF brought out this stuff. You'll never guess what it was.
Anonymous: Something heavy?
Overshare: A pair of roller derby skates!
Anonymous: Huh?
Wyoming: Oh, that's not all!
Overshare: And two pairs of men's hockey skates! Used!
Anonymous: Why?
Wyoming: Wait, wait!! That's not all!!
Overshare: And a bowling ball! With a skull and cross bones on it! And flames! And someone else's initials!
Anonymous: Errr...
Overshare and Wyoming: Isn't that awesome??
Anonymous: But why? Why did he get all of that random stuff?
Wyoming: Because he's a ROCK STAR, that's why!!

Might I Suggest Padded Walls?

2007-03-29T14:33:00.000-07:00

After much deliberation, Witty Comeback decided that Tyrannical Sorority Sister's job was too specialized for her, and would lock her into a career path that she ultimately didn't want. So she went to Boss Man, thanked him and told him she'd prefer to stay where she was at the moment for those reasons.

To say Boss Man was disappointed, though understanding, would be an understatement.

Wouldn't you be disappointed if your two hiring options were shaping up to be Overshare and Smoking Know It All?

The worst part of Witty's decision was undeniably the fact that Overshare clearly had no idea that Witty Comeback had already been offered the position, meaning she continued to spout off at every turn about how excited Boss Man was about her application, how excited she was to start the new job, excitment ad nauseum.

And then, it happened. The comment that made Witty Comeback question her decision, even if just for a moment.

Witty and I were in my office, chatting a bit, when Overshare walked in.

Overshare: So, guys, how do you think I should decorate my office?
Witty, Anonymous: [shared, stunned silence.]

You see, in sifting through all of the pros and cons of taking the job, it never really occurred to either of us that along with TSS's job came her rather cushy window office.

The cushy window office it now appeared that Overshare would soon move into, to lord over us until kingdom come. So we sat there, silently listening to Overshare discuss how soon she could move in there, how she'd position the furniture, how Witty should "feel free" to come in there whenever she wanted, if she ever needed a break from Cubicle City. Because, clearly, enduring her gloating is supposed to be considered a pleasant "escape."

Ah, the Sound of the Uncorrupted....

2007-03-22T02:14:00.000-07:00

At one of our company birthday parties a group of us were standing around, eating cake. (These are always a source of hilarity. Remember? I’ve written about them before.) You know how these things go… you get cake, and the few people who you actually consider friends stand together and chit-chat before you return to your desk to power through the last two hours of work solely on the tides of a sugar high.

So a small group of us are standing around, chatting. Beside me is New Hire, a recent addition to the office who has just asked a friend a question about our insurance plan. During the explanation, Overshare started in on a new story.

Overshare: So CTF and I went camping this weekend, and I have the most hilarious story!
Oh-My-God-I-Loved-It: Oh my God, really? What is it?
Overshare: Well, one night I went to the bathroom.
Anonymous: Ok.
OMG: Wait, is that it?
Overshare, rolling her eyes: No. So I went to the bathroom and CTF said he was going to build a fire while I was gone. So I go, and then when I come back, guess what?
Anonymous: CTF had built a fire?
Overshare, clearly trying (and failing) to build suspense: Noooo….
OMG: CTF doesn’t know how to build a fire?
Overshare: No…. CTF was gone!!
Anonymous: Really?
Overshare: So, I wondered if perhaps I was at the wrong camp, but then I finally figured out that I wasn’t… so then I figured CTF was hiding, so I went to look for him.
OMG: Did you ever find him?
Overshare: Yeah, he was huddled behind our tent. Scared the crap out of me!
New Girl, coming late to the story: Wait, what is this? Who was hiding? A dog? A bear?

[No one answers.]

New Girl, whispering: A rapist?
Overshare: CTF! My boyfriend! I mean, my friend!
New Girl: Your boyfriend’s a rapist?

[Group laughs, hysterically.]

Overshare: Oh, funny. Real funny.

[Group continues to laugh until we notice her Look of Death and Evil.]

Overshare: Fine. I’m going back to my desk.

[Overshare leaves. Group waits a few seconds, bursts into hysterical laughter.]

OMG: Wasn’t that funny? Oh my God, it was so funny!

Advantages of Having An Alien Lovechild

2007-03-15T02:20:00.000-07:00

Overshare: Oh my God, I totally discovered the best thing ever!!

Some ideas on potential "Best Thing Ever" discoveries:
1. A cure for cancer.
2. Several thousands of dollars hidden in the wall of your home.
3. An original manuscript of a world-changing novel, say To Kill A Mockingbird or Catcher in the Rye.

But I know better than that to expect such discoveries from Overshare.

Anonymous: What would that be?
Overshare: With that car seat, and ET strapped in, I can TOTALLY use the car-pool lanes! No one even notices!!

Of course the Best Thing Ever, in her mind, is something that lets her take advantage of the system and benefits only her.

Anonymous: Wow.
Overshare: Who knew??!?
Anonymous: Who knew, indeed.

Oh, how much I would pay to be with the cop who pulls her over to discover this little gem and write her that ticket... the stories, the tears, the "But I didn't know!"... it would be priceless, really. What a story that cop will have to tell his family over dinner.

Office Wars

2007-03-08T02:14:00.000-08:00

Smoking Know It All has a favorite person to gossip at (not to, but at) and that person just so happens to be in an office that is next-door to my office. From now on, I shall call them Smoking Know It All's Victim; Victim for short. And our mutual wall? It's very thin. As in, I routinely have to listen to music in order to drown them out when they're on the phone. Very thin.

And we all know that Overshare's favorite person to overshare to is me.

One day, in the midst of the TSS Promotion Drama, these two unfortunate facts of life collided.

I was in my office, trying to focus on a rather urgent piece of business when I heard Smoking Know It All enter Victim's office. Did I mention in my previous post that Smoking Know It All has a very--how shall we say?-- distinctive voice? Imagine a voice is like a mixed drink... Smoking Know It All's is one shot gravel, one shot Fran Drescher in The Nanny, and a splash of gin.

Smoking Know It All: Hello, Victim.
Victim: Hello, Smoking.
Smoking Know It All: So, did you hear?

It is at this point that Overshare walked into my office.

Overshare: Hey, Anonymous.
Anonymous Coworker: Hey, Overshare.
Overshare: Did you hear?
Anonymous: Hear what?
Overshare, speaking loud enough for Smoking Know It All to hear: Smoking Know It All applied for MY JOB!

Victim, trying to act like he didn't just hear what Overshare said: Hear what, Smoking?
Smoking Know It All: I applied for TSS's JOB!

Anonymous, whispering: Wait, did she apply for your job, or TSS's job?
Overshare: My job IS TSS's JOB! I'm getting THAT PROMOTION!
Anonymous: Err...

Smoking Know It All: There's no way in hell I'm not getting it. With all the things I know...
Victim: Mmmmhmmm....
Smoking Know It All: They'd be crazy not to give it to me. To buy my silence at the VERY LEAST.

Overshare, whispering now: You don't really think they'll give it to her, do you?
Anonymous: [shrugs shoulders.]
Overshare, loudly again: We'll see about that!

Overshare turned and left my office. Smoking Know It All left Victim's office and stuck her head in mine. Creepily, she didn't say anything, just smiled, then left to go back to her section of the office.

Just another day in the Land of the Crazy.

Smoking Know It All

2007-03-01T01:51:00.000-08:00

Witty Comeback decided to take a few days to think over the pros and cons of taking over Tyrannical Sorority Sister’s position, including any potential backlash that might occur from Overshare, should she actually take the job. In the mean time, another candidate threw her hat into the ring: Smoking Know It All.

Smoking Know It All… it boggles the mind to even begin to describe her. She basically, if you ask her, knows everything. And I mean, everything. How to do her job, how to do your job, how to do Incredibly Important Uppity-Up’s job, how to build a space rocket from dental floss, a bra, and orange juice. You know, the basics.

And she never hesitates, never ever hesitates to tell you so, either. In fact, she can't wait to tell you. She loves to tell you that Salesman A was a wacko or that if the company ever fired her, she could cause Management to set fire to the walls with the depth of knowledge she has about its inner workings.

Seriously, Smoking Know It All is the absolute lynch pin to our entire company, and without her the entire thing would crumble like a deck of cards. Just ask her.

But you never actually have to ask her, since her favorite pastime is gossiping, which she accomplishes through her smoking habit. At any time of day, if you walk outside you are almost assured of running into Smoking Know It All. She stands there, waiting for prey… and as soon as she sees someone from the company, she pounces, luring them in with some sordid detail about some department of the company and then proceeds directly into an hour-long lecture about how if she were running things, we’d all be so much better off and why can’t the management just listen to her, because she knows what she’s talking about and sheez, you’d think they’d give her a raise for being This. Damn. Smart.

Smoking + gossiping + infinite knowledge + outrageous sense of entitlement = not someone you want to move into your department of the company.

And to add some more tinder to an already explosive situation, Smoking Know It All and TSS were pretty good friends. And by pretty good friends, I mean Smoking Know It All only said negative things about TSS sometimes. And some more: Smoking Know It All and Overshare had already been in a rather entertaining and legendary cat fight earlier in the year regarding a report.

I was beginning to feel sorry for Boss Man—he didn’t really have a whole lot of options. He could promote the under-qualified Overshare, and deal with her and her oversharing tendencies on a much more consistent basis; hire Smoking Know It All and be forced to hear, every day, how other people simply don’t know what they’re doing and how she really should just be named Emperor of the World already and then everything would finally be all sunshine and puppies and brandy; hire someone outside the company in a total crap shoot; or hire Witty Comeback and have to deal with the drama that Overshare would doubtlessly contribute to such a situation.

What’s a Boss Man to do?

Google Me This

2007-02-21T16:56:00.000-08:00

Some of the latest Googles to bring people to this blog have been simply too funny not to share. I hope you laugh as much as I did when I saw them!

How to tell a REAL Couch purse from a fake one
Hint #1: If it says COUCH on the label, it's fake.

Super-Secret Spy Flask
To go with his (or her) Super-Secret X-Ray Goggles, of course. Who knew James Bond used Google?

My BJ Technique
From a college student, no less. Oh, dear. For a split second, I was sure I had been "discovered."

10 Reasons Sleeping with Your Boss is a Bad Idea
Ok... was someone looking for a Letterman sketch or something? Or are they really looking for a list to convince them this is a Bad Idea? Because, really?? You need some other reason (or nine) beyond "HE'S YOUR BOSS!!!!"??

How to Remove Clothes
Step one: unbutton top button. Step two: unbutton second button.

Cole & Dylan Sprouse: Last Sighting
Wow. Just wow.

Secret Buckle Flask
And this came from a public school district. Student or teacher, do you think?

HORRIBLE COWORKER IN A SMALL OFFICE
First of all, I LOVE that this is in all caps. Like she just. can't. take it. anymore. NOT. ONE. SECOND. Secondly: welcome, friend. Find respite here.

I'll have the update on the Overshare/TSS job next week!

Excuse #37: My Ferret Died.

2007-02-15T07:47:00.000-08:00

So, TSS resigned and now Overshare was gunning for her job. Did I mention that TSS gave four weeks notice?

Now, I know that your initial reaction is going to be "Well, that's really above and beyond... no one gives four weeks notice. TSS clearly could not be as bad as Anonymous Coworker is making her out to be." That's a normal reaction.

Until you realize that TSS had two and a half weeks of sick time stored up.

My company, like most, adds the monetary equivalent of your unused vacation time onto your last paycheck. They do not, however, do the same with sick time. You just, effectively, lose it. Which, from a business stand-point, makes complete sense because sick time is there for the employee should the need arise. It's not supposed to be guaranteed time out of the office.

Back to TSS-- we all started out the four-week period with that same foolish optimism because as awful as TSS was, her job was still quite influential on all of ours. There were a lot of things that needed to be delegated, explained, etc. before she left. How nice of her to give us so much time with which to work.

Except... the day after she announced? She had a terrible cold so she stayed home.

And then came into the office the next day but spent the whole day talking with her good friend, Security Guard.

Only to be out with a sore throat the day after that.

And the next day? Oh, she came in, but left halfway through the day because she had a headache.

So, suffice it to say that her four weeks of notice really turned into a week and a half sprint to get all of her duties delegated after she magically came down with every possible variation of illness known to man, and even a couple of "Oh, I got a flat tire" excuses for good measure. And all during those four weeks... Overshare decided to spend her time discussing her promotion strategy with me.

Overshare: Boss Man simply HAS to give me the job.
Anonymous: Well, TSS had a lot of experience, how do you know he won't be looking for that again?
Overshare: Because I'm right here, obviously. There's no way he's giving this job to someone else.
Anonymous: Obviously.
Overshare: Hey, would you review my resume?

One day, about two weeks before TSS was to leave, Witty Comeback came into my office as soon as Overshare was leaving it, having just handed me her resume to review.

Witty Comeback, shutting my door: We have to talk.
Anonymous: What's up?
Witty Comeback: Boss Man just asked if I wanted TSS's job.
Anonymous: Oh dear. Does Overshare know?
Witty Comeback: No. It literally just happened.
Anonymous: Well, hot damn. She's going to hate you forever.

Resignations

2007-02-08T14:47:00.000-08:00

My company has this habit of sending out what is supposed to be a weekly "newsletter", filled with interesting little tidbits about health insurance changes, or upcoming deadlines, or fun little notes like "Jim Bob in Accounting won the 14th Annual company apple bobbing competition! Congrats, Jim Bob in Accounting!" which are usually accompanied by a photo, which Jim Bob in Accounting would be horrified to see if anyone ever actually opened these newsletters to see anything other than one thing: Staff Changes.

Whenever we get one of these you can hear the sound of all the employees holding their breath as they open, search and find out who's leaving the company, thereby either dooming the reader to performing two jobs until someone else is hired or notifying them that they are losing their arch nemesis only to find that they're a little sad about it. And HR, as much as they like to try and say that "no, really, these newsletters are to keep us informed about the COMPANY, and it's important to know that Sheila in PR just finished her role as Yenta in a dinner theater production" they really don't believe that either because instead of getting this on a weekly basis like they say we will, we really only get them when there are staff changes to report.

These newsletters are always a prime piece of gossip-tinder too, because every once in a while you'll get a staff change announcement like "Todd has left the company. His last day was Tuesday. Best of luck in your future endeavors, Todd!" and it leaves everyone to speculate over whether or not Todd quit, or if he was fired for looking up new jobs on craigslist.

One day, one of these lovely newsletters found their way to my inbox, and I did as all the other office drones did-- opened it immediately to find the most startling news. I actually gasped.

But before I could process what was happening, I heard the sound of footsteps. Someone sprinted into my office. Do you even need to guess who it was?

Overshare: OH MY GOD!!!
Anonymous: I can't believe it.
Overshare: Oh my God!!!
Anonymous: [shocked silence.]
Overshare: She's actually leaving!!
Anonymous: I never thought she'd do it.
Overshare: TSS! She quit! Oh, I am SO getting her job!
Anonymous: What?
Overshare: I am getting her job! Who else could they possibly give it to?

So there you have it, readers. TSS finally, finally quit. After attempting to strong-arm her coworkers into countless "fundraising opportunities", planning parties for her sorority at work, yelling at Overshare about grid lines, conveniently getting "flat-tires" before every major work event... she finally just decided to leave. And now, the war for her job would begin.

ET, Phone Asylum

2007-02-01T02:16:00.000-08:00

One day, Overshare had some things in her car that she needed to bring into the office. So about mid-way through the work day she stopped in my office and asked if I would help her carry some of the stuff in. Eyes crossing from a very tedious assignment, I agreed.

We didn't really talk much on the way to her car, which is a blessing in a not-so-secret disguise.

Once there, though, what I encountered clearly called for a discussion.

Anonymous: Uh, Overshare?
Overshare: Yes?
Anonymous: What's that?
Overshare: What?
Anonymous: That. [Pointing.] Why do you have a car seat?
Overshare: Oh, that's the funniest thing ever!

Really? The Funniest Thing Ever? Must be one of those sarcastic talking car seats I've been hearing so much about.

At this point, I didn't really want to know the story behind why a single-ish twenty-something girl without progeny had a car seat in the back of her car. At least, I didn't until I looked a little closer and saw that something was actually buckled into the car seat.

Anonymous: Is that?
Overshare: Yes, yes it is.
Anonymous: What? Why? Why?
Overshare: CTF saw it in a thrift store and just couldn't resist.
Anonymous: He saw what in the thrift store? ET or the car seat?
Overshare: ET! Isn't he awesome?
Anonymous: Kind of freaky, actually. With his big eyes.
Overshare: I think he's precious.
Anonymous: Ok, let's just get the stuff and go back to work.
Overshare: Don't you want to hear the story?
Anonymous: Errr....
Overshare: So, while we were out of town last weekend, we just randomly went into this thrift store, and THERE HE WAS!
Anonymous: Wow.
Overshare: Yeah, I know! And apparently, CTF has always had this weird thing for ET, so he just had to buy it.
Anonymous: Weird ET Thing?
Overshare: So I bought it for him, and he insisted on carrying it around all weekend, calling it our lovechild! Isn't that so funny?
Anonymous: Hilarious.

Not to be all snarky (oh, who am I kidding?) but... seriously: If a man I was dating ever came close to implying that our child together would somehow look even remotely similar to ET, the EXTRA-TERRESTRIAL, we would be breaking up faster than he could write the five dollar check to Goodwill.

Overshare: Yeah, every time we got into the car, he took forever putting ET into his seat, buckling his seatbelt... it was adorable. He even made me buy it a Happy Meal when we went through the drive thru!
Anonymous: Oh. My. God.
Overshare: I KNOW! Isn't he hilarious??
Anonymous: [Silence.]
Overshare: I thought I was going to die from laughing.
Anonymous: I know I am.
Overshare: So then we were driving by Babies-R-Us, and he told me we had to go in and buy him a car seat.

Whoa. Whoa whoa whoa whoa WHOA.

Now, there is a fine line between "Oh, this is a funny private joke" and "Okay, we've taken this joke too far." (It's also commonly referred to as the line between sanity and insanity.) I'd have to say that PURCHASING A CAR SEAT for the ET DOLL that you've been calling your lovechild is on the INSANITY side of that line.

Call me crazy.

Somehow, I just can't see justifying the purchase of a car seat for anything other than a baby. But I'm old-fashioned like that. Especially when, upon researching the topic for this post, I discovered that there is no such thing as a cheap car seat. Check it out.

Anonymous: You really bought a carseat for a plush ET Doll.
Overshare: Sure did! Like CTF says, there's nothing too good for our lovechild.

Birthday Tantrums

2007-01-25T02:05:00.000-08:00

Birthdays in my office are, in my humble opinion, over-celebrated. A card, a bazillion emails, lunch at a restaurant and cake and ice cream later back in the office just seems like a whole bunch for people who really are only in each other's lives beacuse they were hired by the same company. I don't mean to sound like the Birthday Grinch, because I'm not really: I love birthdays. Maybe it's just that I think a much better celebration would be to give the Birthday Person the day off instead of making them attend to normal work in between long lunches and the lingering threat/anticipation of the phone call from their boss that is going to lead them into a "surprise" birthday party.

Usually the lunch portion of the day is coordinated by whoever is the closest friend of the Birthday Person. For years, then, this meant that Witty Comeback was in charge when my birthday came around. Alas, not this year. No. This year, my birthday celebrations fell into the hands of none other than Overshare herself. I realized then that this whole process was rather, how shall I say, unstructured. Because Lord knows I wouldn't choose Overshare for this job if she were my last option available. I'd take a pay cut first.

For weeks, I endured conversations like:

Overshare: So, Anonymous, where do you want to have lunch on your birthday?
Anonymous: Well...
Overshare: You'd better start thinking!

or

Overshare: So, Anonymous, where do you want to have lunch on your birthday?
Anonymous: I was thinking that a lunch wasn't really necessary...
Overshare: Of course it's necessary!

or

Overshare: So, Anonymous, where do you want to have lunch on your birthday?
Anonymous: I was thinking of...
Overshare: Oh, I know the perfect place! What kind of cake do you want?
Anonymous: Well...
Overshare: You'd better start thinking about it! Your birthday is just two weeks away! Sheez!

So finally, my birthday came around. FINALLY.

A group of us (more her friends than mine, p.s.) all went to the restaurant that Overshare hand-picked. Lucky, lucky me. Once inside, Overshare takes a seat at the far end of the table. I take a seat in the middle, figuring that it's my birthday so I should probably sit somewhere that I at least have a chance to talk to everybody who was so nice as to come celebrate it with me. How silly of me, really. Once we're all seated, the Drama begins.

Overshare: Hmph. [Rolls eyes.] HMMMPPPPHHH.
Anonymous: What's wrong, Overshare?
Overshare, loudly: I planned this whole stupid thing for YOUR birthday. The least you could do is sit by me.
Anonymous: What?
Overshare, much too loudly for a public place: I planned this WHOLE THING and you won't even sit by me!
Anonymous: I just thought I should sit in the mid--
Overshare: Oh, whatever. Let's just order and get this over with.

Happy Birthday to me! Happy Birthday to me! Happy Birth-day, dear Anon-y-mous...

Anonymous: Do you want us to rearrange?
Overshare: Doesn't matter to me.
Anonymous: Well...
Unreasonably Nice Intern from HR: Here, switch with me, Overshare.

They switch seats. Overshare primly places her napkin in her lap before turning to me and fixing me with a Death Glare.

Overshare: Now, was that so hard?

The Hearing

2007-01-16T02:37:00.000-08:00

I have to admit, there are times when I get caught up in the Overshare Drama, and this whole Flask Incident was one of those times… I came into work the day after Overshare took her day off to take CTF to court with a sense of expectancy. What had happened? Would this have snowballed into even more drama, or would it be one of those things that just faded into the background after the initial groundswell?

My questions were met with mystery. There was a cryptic email in my inbox stating to our whole department that Overshare would be coming into the office “when/if she could.”

Drama, it is.

And drama it was, about four hours later when Overshare finally showed up. She walked in the office, straight to my office, closed the door and dropped down into a chair with a huge melodramatic groan.

Overshare: Oh my GAWD, Anonymous!! I don’t know what to do!!!

Am I completely horrible for feeling something very closely related to glee at the idea that this was most definitely Drama with a capital D?

Anonymous: What happened?
Overshare: The attorney said it was going to be easy! A piece of cake, he said!
Anonymous: Well, these things seldom are.
Overshare: ARRRRGGGHHHHH!
Anonymous: Hmm.
Overshare: ARRRRGGGHHHHH!!!!!!
Anonymous: What happened?
Overshare: I don’t even know where to begin.
Anonymous: Well, how about—
Overshare: First of all, his lawyer didn’t show up.
Anonymous: Oh.
Overshare: Yeah. His lawyer didn’t show up!! How could he do that?
Anonymous: Hmm.
Overshare: So, basically, we’re stuck waiting all day in this little tiny room, waiting for him to be called before the judge. We spent all day on the phone, trying to get in touch with his lawyer, but he must have been in a meeting or something, because he wouldn’t pick up his phone.
Anonymous: Hmm.
Overshare: He finally got called at the very, very end of the day! Can you believe they made us wait like that? Who do they think they are?

The more appropriate question here, I think, is who do Overshare and CTF think they are? Because seriously, I doubt that any judge, anywhere, is going to say, “Oh my God, it’s Overshare and Chris the Felon! Let’s make sure they’re not inconvenienced in any way! Move all my cases back!”

Anonymous: But once you finally got in front of the judge—
Overshare: It was even worse!
Anonymous: What happened?
Overshare: Well, the judge asked what happened, the cop explained, then CTF explained… and p.s., the cop totally lied…
Anonymous: Sure.
Overshare: Anyway, after CTF was done explaining how the flask was empty and the cop was just a rogue cop who was jealous that CTF was having fun with a beautiful woman [Overshare flips hair over her shoulder] the judge just said “Hmmm.” How juvenile is that?

Personally, I’m amazed that the judge, the cop, the court stenographer, the prosecuting attorney, and anyone else in the room didn’t burst into laughter. But hey, maybe that’s just me.

Anonymous: Hmmm.
Overshare: Yeah, so then the judge starts flipping through this file folder on his desk, for like, a loooonnngg time. And then he looks up and asks CTF, “Have you been in any other trouble recently, son?”
Anonymous: Uhoh.
Overshare: What do you mean, uhoh? What is that supposed to mean?
Anonymous, completely taken aback: What? I mean, I just, well…

Clearly, I meant that CTF had most definitely been in trouble recently. Just as clearly, Overshare was in no mood to hear such things.

Overshare: Whatever. So CTF said, “No, I haven’t.”
Anonymous: You don’t think the judge was referring to—
Overshare, irrationally: Well, it’s none of the judge’s business, is it? It’s not his jurisdiction!!
Anonymous: Ok.
Overshare: So then the judge, this crazy-ass judge, leans over and says, “Well, well, well… looks like we’ve got a case of amnesia.”

It is at this moment that I wish I had taken the day off to attend the hearing too, because hot damn, this judge may be my new Favorite Person on Planet Earth.

Overshare: He’s crazy! A crazy judge! How do they let crazy people become judges??
Anonymous, trying not to giggle like a crazy person: I do not know.
Overshare: ARRGGHH! So then, he starts to read off all of these offenses that CTF supposedly committed, and I swear, Anonymous, he made half of them up.

Yeah. I’m sure he did. Like there wasn’t enough there to work with already.

Overshare: So then, he leans back into his chair, all superior like and puts his hands together. Then he looks over to the prosecutor and asks, “What’s the max here?” Can you believe that?? The maximum!! And I totally start to freak out, crying. I’m sobbing hysterically, and the judge doesn’t even care! Doesn’t even acknowledge my existence!
Anonymous: Well, he was probably trying to—
Overshare: No! Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare defend him!
Anonymous: Okaaay.
Overshare: So then he sentenced CTF to a $1,000 fine and 30 days in jail! That he wanted him to start serving immediately!
Anonymous: Oh.
Overshare, crying now: So they lead CTF away in handcuffs… and I had to reach into his pocket to get his wallet out to pay the fine and everything.
Anonymous: CTF had $1,000 in his wallet?
Overshare: No. $80.
Anonymous: What did you do?
Overshare: Well, I cried for like, ever. And then this cop came over to console me. He was really cute too.
Anonymous: The same cop?
Overshare: Never!
Anonymous: Sorry. Of course not.
Overshare: So I finally got myself together—called his lawyer to tell him, but had to leave a message. Anyway, by the time we got everything settled, it was too late to get him out, so he had to spend the night in jail! I slept in the car outside so I could get him out first thing in the morning, and so that's why I'm late. His parents wired the bail bondsman $100 so CTF could get out of jail while we protest, or whatever that term is—
Anonymous: Appeal?
Overshare: No, I don’t think that’s it. Whatever. And then I called my parents and they wired me the money for all the court fees, attorney fees, etc. It was like $600!
Anonymous: Why didn’t CTF’s parents pay for that?
Overshare: Oh, CTF asked me not to ask them. He was too embarrassed about it.
Anonymous: But how is that fair—
Overshare: That’s not what’s important right now! Can't you see the bigger picture??! CTF's going to JAIL!

I'll Show You Inappropriate. Ok, not really.

2007-01-04T15:56:00.000-08:00

To The “Reader” Who Flagged My Blog As “Inappropriate Content” While I Was Away on Vacation:

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

May you never be subjected to a horrible coworker whose stories force you to document them on a blog, where you are at the mercy of the Blogspot Gods who will decide whether or not to revoke your one source of comfort in the Oversharing that is your life because ONE reader simply doesn't "get it".

Much love and affection,
Anonymous Coworker

P.S. If you found the content so objectionable, may I ask why you spent three hours reading the entire thing?

Now that that's off my chest, onto the Overshare:

After the Flask Incident, a few weeks went by and I didn’t hear anything more on the subject. I decided to ask. Because, hell. At least this story is actually entertaining.

Anonymous: So, Overshare… what’s happening with that whole CTF/Flask/Court thing?
Overshare: Well, I’m taking the day off tomorrow to drive him down to the courthouse.
Anonymous: You’re taking a day off to take him to his trial?
Overshare: Well, the whole thing was kind of my fault, so I owe him at least that much.
Anonymous: How was the whole thing your fault?
Overshare: Well, you know, it was my idea to go out of town in the first place.

Oh. My. Damn. This had all the signs of CTF turning the whole thing around into being Overshare’s fault. Never mind that HE chose to wear the freaking belt buckle flask in the first place (which, I'd like to point out again, is probably the tackiest thing known to man.) Or that HE chose to pull an attitude with a cop. No, no. Clearly this is all Overshare’s fault because she…gasp!… offered to provide him with a free place to stay for a weekend in a different city! How dare she!

Anonymous: Your fault?
Overshare: Yes. So I’m driving him to his trial. His lawyer says the court in this town is a joke. He’ll just get a small fine, we’ll pay it, we’ll leave. CTF’s already talking about where he wants to have lunch afterwards.
Anonymous: Well, I hope it goes well.
Overshare: Oh, don't worry. How could it not?

A Cautionary Tale for the Holidays

2006-12-20T09:26:00.000-08:00

Overshare: Oh My God.
Anonymous: What?
Overshare: CTF was ARRESTED!
Anonymous: Wait, recently?

For this, she glared at me. Heck, I thought it was a legitimate question. Maybe she was just coming to the realization that the guy she wasn’t dating but most definitely sleeping with had once been arrested. And not a funny ha-ha kind of arrested but for real and for serious ARRESTED. For doing BAD THINGS.

Overshare: This weekend! When we were out of town!
Anonymous: What happened?
Overshare: Well, a bunch of us were all hanging out in this park across from the bar we had just left, and it was like two in the morning. Well, this cop comes up to us and starts harassing us. And CTF just wasn’t having it, especially because the cop was totally getting in CTF’s face. For no reason. So CTF started talking back, and the cop got really angry, so he threatened to arrest CTF. And that’s when he noticed his belt buckle.

She said that last sentence so non-chalantly. "And that’s when he noticed his belt buckle." Like that’s a completely normal thing for a police officer to notice, or like I obviously had a thorough knowledge of CTF’s belts, which I’ll tell you, I don’t. Nor will I, ever.

Anonymous: His belt buckle?
Overshare: Yeah.
Anonymous: What was wrong with his belt buckle?
Overshare: Nothing was wrong with it. It was a flask.

You heard it here first, folks. A belt buckle FLASK. And ps-- that is something so-very-wrong with his belt buckle.

When I heard this story, I was insanely curious and before she was even fully out of the door I was on Google, checking it out. Oh yes, my friends. These things exist. Simply typing belt buckle flask into Google returns 135,000 pages. 135,000 pages! I thought I’d show you some potential flasks, just for the heck of it.

There’s the oh-so-cool Iron Cross Belt-Buckle Flask:

The obligatory Scarface Belt-Buckle Flask:

And the Rhinestone Belt-Buckle Flask (particularly recommended for Rhinestone Cowboys):

The "Trucker Babe" Belt Flask:

And my own personal favorite, the Che Guevera belt flask:

Because nothing says "Marxist Revolutionary" quite like having Che's face on your belt-buckle flask.

Overshare: So the cop, what as asshole he was, totally arrested CTF for having an open container! Even though the flask was empty!

Anyone out there believe that CTF was sporting a belt-buckle flask that was EMPTY? Anyone? Anyone?

Overshare: So he had to spend the night in jail, and I had to bail him out in the morning. I can't believe my life sometimes. Now, he might totally get his probation revoked because some crazy cop decided to arrest him for no reason!
Anonymous: Wow.

Well, maybe CTF will get lucky and the guy standing next to him in the jail cell will have a belt buckle like this:

Just A Spoonful of Sugar...

2006-12-14T12:59:00.000-08:00

I’m known as somewhat of a Mary Poppins in my office… I carry a huge purse, and there’s a good chance that if you need something random, something that no one ever carries around with them, ever, I just may have it in there. And if it’s not in my purse, I have a very useful collection of things in my desk drawers. Nail polish remover? Check. Duct Tape? Check. Film? Check; would you prefer black and white or color? Static-cling remover? Yep. You get the picture.

So, you’ll have to forgive me that I was completely blind-sided by the forthcoming Overshare interaction.

Overshare: Anonymous, do you have AA batteries?
Anonymous: I should… let me check. [Rummages through Magic Purse, Magic Drawers] Hmmm. That’s odd, usually I do. Sorry! I’ll have to replace my stash!
Overshare: Damn.
Anonymous: Sorry.
Overshare: Oh, it’s all right. I just really wish you had some.
Anonymous: Yeah, usually I do, you know…
Overshare: Yeah. Wyoming and I are going to a tattoo parlor tonight.
Anonymous: Oh.
Overshare: Yeah, so I really want to take pictures and my camera's batteries just died.
Anonymous: Pictures of your tattoo?
Overshare: Oh, I’m not getting a tattoo.
Anonymous: Of Wyoming’s tattoo, then.
Overshare, staring at me in confusion: She’s not getting a tattoo either.
Anonymous: But you said you were going to a tattoo parlor…
Overshare: Well, yeah, but I’m getting pierced!
Anonymous: Oh.
Overshare: Yeah. Guess where!
Anonymous, hopefully: Eyebrow?
Overshare: Nope!
Anonymous, rapidly losing hope: Nose?
Overshare: Nope! Guess again!
Anonymous, descending into despair: Belly button?
Overshare: Closer—it’s definitely below my waist!

I think we should take a minute to let out a collective scream.

Finished? Me too. For the record, mine sounded something like "AHHHHHHHH!!!!! ENOUGH ALREADY!!!"

Here are my questions (feel free to respond with your own):
1.) Why exactly does she need a camera?
2.) Who exactly is documenting this event?
3.) Who does she plan on showing these pictures to? (For the love of all that’s holy, if those pictures make their way into my office, I’m resigning.)
4.) It’s not a question, but poor, poor Piercing Man.

The Coach/Couch Saga Continues

2006-12-07T04:51:00.000-08:00

Several weeks after Overshare's "Coach" purse suddenly, miraculously appeared and took its place of prominence at staff meetings, our receptionist walked into my office and shut the door.

Receptionist, whispering: Hey, Anonymous.
Anonymous: Yes?
Receptionist: Have you seen Overshare's Coach purse?
Anonymous: Yes.
Receptionist: Have you heard the story behind it?
Anonymous: Not directly from Overshare, but I know the basic story behind it. CTF bought it for her in some grand show of love, didn't he?
Receptionist: Oh my God, I can't believe you haven't heard the story yet.
Anonymous: What story?
Receptionist: Well, the other night, I was out with Wyoming and Overshare and CTF at a bar.
Anonymous: Why?
Receptionist: Long story. There were supposed to be other people there but they bailed and it ended up being me and the three of them.
Anonymous: I'm so sorry.
Receptionist: Yeah.

[A moment of silence, please, for Receptionist's poor, unfortunate, now-permanently-scarred soul.]

Receptionist: So anyway, while we were all out, I couldn't take all of the inconsistencies in the story anymore so when Overshare went to the bathroom, I cornered CTF.
Anonymous: Really??

Oh, I was SO glad to get the real story on this. Here it is, as Receptionist relayed to me.

Receptionist: So, CTF, I can't believe you spent so much money on a purse for Overshare!
CTF: What?
Receptionist: Yeah, I mean, that must have cost you a lot of money! Did you get a good deal or something?
CTF: What are you talking about? What purse?
Receptionist: The Coach purse you bought for Overshare! Those things are crazy expensive!
CTF: I didn't buy Overshare any purse.
Receptionist: At all?
CTF: No!
Receptionist: But Overshare said that you sent her out of the store and bought it for her over a month ago.
CTF: I didn't buy nobody no f***ing purse.

Ah, so polite. I had almost forgotten.

So what did I do with this new information? I immediately call Witty Comeback to come into my office to hear the story, first-hand. Receptionist relayed it again.

Anonymous: Can you believe it?
Witty Comeback: Not really, no.
Anonymous: Receptionist, did you tell Overshare that you found out?
Receptionist: Are you kidding? I plan to talk about the purse whenever CTF is around now, just to see her sweat.

Google Fun

2006-12-01T03:23:00.000-08:00

I'll get back to an original Overshare story next week, guys. Until then, to tide you over, may I present the latest Google search terms to lead to Overshare:

Cardio Strip Down tour

A whole tour? Really? I wonder if Overshare knows about that!

Witty Comeback about Happy Hour

Don’t we all wish for one of those? I just love the idea that someone out there googled this. Seriously. If it’s you, send me an email. We need to be friends.

Nanny Sex

Dear Jude Law,

Way to be discreet.

Sincerely,

Anonymous Coworker

When You Love A Coworker

Awww. How sweet. Sort of odd that someone out there is searching for some sort of “how-to” about this, but who am I to judge?

I want to book Cole and Dylan Sprouse for a birthday party?

I love, love, LOVE that this person included a question mark. Google, is this you? Yes, I’d like to book George Clooney for a bachelorette party? Please?

My crazy threesome adventure

Not just ANY crazy threesome adventure, oh no. MY crazy threesome adventure. Maybe they should have included an exclamation point.

Amazing shagging

Looks like that Coworker Love Affair Guide worked.

And my current favorite: coworkers alcohol bad

Why, yes, yes it is. Thank you for noticing.

Does that say "Coach" or "Couch"?

2006-11-22T09:08:00.000-08:00

Just a little note: I'm going to be gone over Thanksgiving-- expect a new post late next week.

There are times when, believe it or not, I only hear of an Overshare second-hand.

It would seem that all evidence is to the contrary, I know, but it's true. There are some things that Overshare simply elects to not tell me, and in those situations I usually find out about them through other sources. Often times in these circumstances, I will know that there is something that is being withheld from me, because I will hear her oversharing in the office next to mine, or talking loudly from her workspace, etc., but for some reason that I've yet to determine (It's over my head? She thinks I'm sick of hearing about it? Who knows?) she just chooses not to share particular stories with me.

[Witty Comeback: See, I always thought that she wouldn't tell you certain things in one of her bizarre attempts to make you jealous--like withholding sex from CTF while he was sleeping with Swedish Nanny, or something.]

One instance of this is actually one of my favorite stories, but to tell it properly I had to call upon my good friend Witty to recreate the scene for us.
In order to really appreciate this entry, we must first have a little background on Witty Comeback. She's a fashionista, hard-core. She can spot fake jewelry at fifty paces. She can walk a mile in four-inch heels and smile while doing it. She may have even coined the phrase, "It doesn't match; it goes."

Keep this in mind, because it makes this Much. More. Hysterical. What follows is Witty Comeback’s account of the infamous Coach Bag Incident, with just a few interjections of my own, because I can’t resist.

Overshare: Hey, Witty Comeback, look at what CTF bought for me!

Overshare holds up a very brightly colored handbag, covered in multi-colored Coach logos. It looked sort of like this one, but the handles were green.

[Anonymous: Maybe it’s just me, but I kind-of, sort-of hate that bag. Maybe it’s the association I have with Overshare’s purse now, I don’t know.]

Witty Comeback: Wow. Nice! Lemme see.
Overshare: Well, you can look, but you can't touch.

She walks over with the bag and, true to her word, holds it up for me to see but won't let me touch it. There was something...off...about that. And about the bag itself.

Overshare: CTF and I were in the Coach store on Saturday, and I was looking at this bag and I really liked it, and the saleswoman was really trying to sell me on it, but I mean, I wasn't going to buy it. So then CTF told me to go wait outside the store while he talked to the lady.
Witty Comeback: Come on, just lemme see.
Overshare: No, it's mine.

Like I was going to steal her toy. In the office.

Overshare: So then CTF came back outside and gave me the bag!
Witty Comeback, who owns several Coach bags herself: I just want to see how heavy it is. They're always heavy.
Overshare, handing over a bag crammed with stuff: Ok, but just for a second.

She puts the handles in my hand for less than 30 seconds, just long enough for me to heft it, but not long enough to bring up my other hand to touch it. Brief, to be sure, but I am an expert and that was NOT real leather those handles were made of.

Witty Comeback: Yeah, it's heavy.
Overshare: I wonder how much it was. I'm going to go online and look.

[Anonymous, interjecting: Wasn’t she IN the store with CTF, being harangued by the salesperson to buy it? Is she trying to say that she didn’t look at the price tag? Who does that? And does she think CTF used his masculine wiles to score a good deal? If so, how the heck would the Internet be able to tell her what he paid? Color me confused. Now back to Witty Comeback.]

So, of course, I turn around and go straight back to my desk to look myself. Because if there's one thing I know, it's that the manufacturers of fake bags often change just enough details of their bags not to get sued. And sure enough, the website delivered. Coach was selling that style bag, and it was selling bags in that color palette, but they weren't selling that particular bag in that particular color. So it was fake. Really curious to see what Overshare's reaction would be, I went into her office. I didn't say a word.

Overshare, looking online: They must not have it in stock anymore. But the other ones like this are $320. Wow. I can't believe he spent that much money on me.

Now, there's no way that she didn't know the bag was fake. Otherwise, she would have let me touch it. So I went into Anonymous Coworker’s office to discuss it, incredulous and trying to imagine....

Witty Comeback: Where did the lie begin? Did they go to the store, then walk down the street and buy the fake together? Did he just buy her the fake on the street and then she made up the story about going to the store to try to authenticate the bag to us? Did he give her the bag and try to pass it off as real? Why? I own real bags AND fakes, and I'll tell you which is which. Why the lying?
Anonymous: That's so weird. Just plain ODD.
Witty Comeback: And why, WHY if she knew the bag was fake, which she clearly did, did she practically instruct me to go check the website?
Anonymous: She must have wanted you to see the prices.
Witty Comeback: Oh my, she hadn't been to the website herself, and she thought it was such a good fake that the website would back her up! She is totally going to spend the next week talking about this bag and repeating the story just to convince me that it's real.

And sure enough, that's what she did. That bag didn't leave her side for days. She placed it prominently on a chair just inside the door of her office. She even took it to meetings. Within the building. It was unreal.

[Anonymous, interjecting again: I remember seeing her carry around that purse everywhere, and especially loved all the times when she'd set it on the conference table at meetings. Everyone else? We all had pads of papers, a cell phone here or there. And she never, not once, told me the story. To this day. She told everyone else (and that is not an exaggeration) but me. Nope. I get to hear about the consistency of poop, about sexual techniques, about Swedish Nanny, about everything else. But no Coach purse.]

We still didn't know what started the whole charade to begin with. But we were going to find out!

TSS Strikes Again!

2006-11-16T11:03:00.000-08:00

You know, I’m just a girl, in the world… trying to just live her life, enjoy her work, and not deal with crazy people.

Why does this seem like a pipe dream?

Maybe because even if I didn’t have Overshare in my office telling me completely inappropriate, personal things (and that’s a BIG “if”) or Wyoming crawling into computer boxes, or Toolshed spamming me, I’d still have to deal with Tyrannical Sorority Sister.

One day, TSS sent out an all staff email. Now, as friends who have heard me fume about this before will tell you, I have a very specific and intense loathing of the All Staff Email. I find that there are very, very few things that in fact ALL STAFF need to have announced to them at the same time. Death. Bankruptcy. Christmas Party. Annual Meeting. I get that. But those All Staff Emails that are completely unnecessary, like “Hey everyone, even you folks in Denver, some idiot didn’t turn off his lights in the parking garage in Phoenix. Anyone know someone who drives a Black Honda Civic?” drive me around the bend. Take a moment and think about who really needs to see what you’re about to say and then send it to them, and only them. Capiche?

Rant Over.

So (and prepare yourselves to be shocked by this information,) TSS sent an All Staff Email requesting money.

This time the money was for Diabetes. Now, as I have not only family members but also close friends who suffer from this horrible disease (not to mention my beloved Elliot Yamin) I already donate to the American Diabetes Association. Part of me, when I saw her email explaining that she was joining her sorority in a Walk-A-Thon for ADA, I actually considered donating to the cause, because finally, she was asking for something that’s worth supporting.

But I forgot. Whether it was because my mind was trained at this point to conveniently “forget” all of the money requests that came my way from TSS or because I legitimately forgot, the world will never know. But apparently I was not the only person on staff to forget or “forget”, whichever the case may be, because a few weeks later (AFTER the actual walk-a-thon,) we received another All Staff Email.

And the contents were so truly horrifying, I have no option but to post it in its entirety here (emphasis is, indeed, hers):

“I know SOMEONE here wants to help me raise funds for the ADA! It's hard to believe that not one of my co-workers has given me a donation yet. It probably just slipped your minds, so I'm sending out one last reminder. I have until next Friday to turn in funds. Since Tuesday is payday that would be a good time to make a small donation. Please help by making out a check to the American Diabetes Association. Thank you in advance.”

Hot damn, is that not the worst thing you’ve ever seen? I don’t know what’s worse… the guilt trip, the not-even-trying-to-be-subtle reminder of our payday, the vaguely Mafia-esque “Thank you in advance”… it’s all just so creepy.

The best part of all? She didn’t EVEN WALK IN THE WALK-A-THON!! She was “sick” the actual day of the event (an excuse we’d heard many times before to explain several sudden absences at scheduled work events) and didn’t think it was in “her best interest” to participate.

Apparently, none of her coworkers thought it was in their best interest to give her money but that ain't stopping her from giving us all a very public shakedown.

The Gift That Keeps On Giving

2006-11-09T07:11:00.000-08:00

My aunt once bought me a chalkboard that was shaped as a pig for my birthday. It was kind of like this, but not as classy. Have I mentioned that I was 16 at the time, and in no way had expressed any special interest in pigs? And the best part: the chalk wouldn't actually write on the pig.

Random gift giving can be the source of so much hilarity. Thanks, Auntie. I sure hope you didn’t spend $22 bucks on mine.

After it became apparent that Swedish Nanny would not only be leaving the country in short order but was also of the smothering girlfriend variety, CTF began showering Overshare with gifts.

Overshare: Hey! Look what CTF bought for me!

She was holding up a cage, of sorts… more like a clear plastic box filled with sand.

Anonymous: Sand?
Overshare: Don’t be stupid, why would he buy me sand?
Anonymous: What is it then?
Overshare, gleefully: A hermit crab!!

I seriously considered inserting a “CTF gave Overshare crabs” joke here, but it just seemed too easy.

Anonymous: Why?
Overshare: Why not?

That’s a good question—why wouldn’t a felon bouncer buy his non-girlfriend a hermit crab?

Overshare: He was so cute about it too—I was in the grocery store and he stayed in the car, but when I came back out with the beer, he had this!! Isn’t he adorable?
Anonymous: Sure.
Overshare: And then CTF gave me these puppy dog eyes and said ‘I guess I just really want to be a dad.’

Funny—I could have sworn he was.

Overshare: He’s kind of a deadbeat dad, though.
Anonymous, unable to resist: Didn’t we know that already?
Overshare, sarcastically: Oh, you're just sooo hysterical, aren't you?

I think I am, at least.

Step One: Remove Clothes

2006-11-01T15:16:00.000-08:00

Amazing Adventures of Overshare just had its one-year anniversary. And by "just", I mean the beginning of October. To celebrate, we donned large-rimmed rhinestone sunglasses, a Baby Bjorn and drank a beer before having sex on a first date with a felon. Nothing else seemed appropriate, really.

If you read back over the posts, you’ll notice that I sometimes talk about the various methods for oversharing that Overshare employs. There’s the Ambush: she sneaks into your office without warning and just BAM! unleashes something you didn’t need to know. There’s the Emotional Uncoil: she walks into your office, crying, forcing you to ask what is wrong. There’s the Leading Question: “How was your weekend?” There’s Excited Utterance: Jockitch! There are tons of other tactics.

But my all-time favorite?? Charades.

Oh yes, my friends. Nothing compares to those times that Overshare decides to embellish her stories with a little physical action. I had a very unfortunate run-in with Charades before, as you may recall.

Overshare: So I bought one of those Cardio Strip Tease Videos are as a joke.
Anonymous: Oh. My. God.
Overshare: Yeah, so we were just sitting around last night and decided to try it out.
Anonymous: Who is “we?”

At the time of this story, my writing of this blog had already begun… and this has had the unfortunate effect of causing me to actually want more detail, in order to write a better post… do you see how I sacrifice for you?

Overshare: Wyoming and I.
Anonymous: [Says a silent prayer of thanks that this story doesn’t include CTF.]
Overshare: And oh my God, are they tougher than they look! Strippers must be the most in-shape people ever!
Anonymous: [Makes non-committal noise.]
Overshare: Yeah, seriously. The moves were like… uhh. Uhhh. Uhhhhhhhhhh.

[Proceeds to demonstrate with inappropriate noises.]

She demonstrated folks. DEMONSTRATED stripper moves, in my office, in the middle of the workday. And we’re not talking shy little approximations of the moves, oh no. We’re talking full on grunting, twisting, thrusting, dare I even say undulating. Undulating. There, I said it. And oh, it's true.

Overshare: I really think it's going to give me an advantage during sex.

Candy Gram

2006-10-26T07:17:00.000-07:00

Now, normally, I don’t like to start conversations with Overshare unless they’re work related. I figure I get enough of the oversharing without having to coach it along, but sometimes things happen that just can’t be ignored.

One day, Overshare walked by my office wearing something that forced me to call out to her.

Anonymous: Hey, Overshare? What are you wearing on your hand?
Overshare: Oh, this? CTF gave it to me.
Anonymous: Isn’t that a Ring Pop?
Overshare: Sure is.
Anonymous: Haven’t seen one of those since at least sixth grade.
Overshare: Yeah, isn’t it awesome? CTF came to lunch today and brought it with him. And he made this whole big show of getting down on one knee in the middle of the restaurant, and I totally started to freak out, but then he brought out the Ring Pop and asked me to be his lunch partner. When I said yes everyone clapped. Isn’t that so sweet? And it’s totally my favorite flavor, too. [Sucks on the Ring Pop.]

Does anyone else doubt the veracity of the “everyone clapped” statement? If I’m in a restaurant and see some idiot get down on one knee, give a girl a Ring Pop and ask to be her lunch partner, I’m much more likely to give a great big eye-roll than a round of applause. But maybe that’s just me.

Anonymous: So, are you guys back together?
Overshare: Oh, no. He asked though.
Anonymous, incredulously: And you said no??

Now, I am not incredulous at this information because I think she should date the Felon, oh no. It’s more because she’s made such a big friggin’ deal about CTF and Swedish Nanny that I would have thought she’d jump all over the chance to lock him down. Apparently not, though.

Overshare: Oh, Anonymous… please. Of course I’m gonna make him sweat!
Anonymous: Of course.
Overshare: Let him think that he's stuck with Smothering Swedish Nanny! That way, he'll be much more appreciative when I finally say yes.

There I Go, There I Go...

2006-10-18T11:46:00.000-07:00

I am 100%, fully, completely, utterly aware that the story that follows is my own damn fault. All that I ask is that you please not judge me for what love drove me to do.

Overshare: I have a surprise for you!
Anonymous: What’s that?
Overshare: Guess who your new best friend is?
Anonymous: I have a new best friend?
Overshare: You will once you hear what I did!
Anonymous: Okaaayyyy….
Overshare: I BOUGHT US TWO TICKETS TO THE AMERICAN IDOL TOUR!!!

It is at this moment that I think I felt the full spectrum of human emotion at once: elation, dread, joy, woe, affection, confusion, guilt, helplessness, anxiety, and delight.

Because, seriously. My coworker bought me a ticket to go see Elliot Yamin. How nice is that, in any situation? But that coworker is Overshare, and she distinctly said two tickets.

And I will admit to you all that I never, not once, considered not going. Come hell or high water, I was going to this concert. Only Death himself would be able to stop me, and even then he would have to pry the ticket out of my cold hand. This is Elliot Yamin, people.

Vote like YAMIN it!

Anyway.

Anonymous: SHUT. UP.
Overshare: Yeah. You can write me the check for $60 whenever you get a chance.

Odd that she chose to spend my money without asking, but whatever—I had a ticket to see Elliot! (Okay, okay, and Chris Daughtrey and Taylor Hicks. Ace Young too, but only for his looks because his falsetto makes me want to stab myself in the eye.) And they were great seats. GREAT seats.

As the day got closer, I began to realize that this was going to cost me a bit more than $60. Like, say, $60 and my sanity. Soon, she started asking me where I wanted to eat beforehand. Then if I wanted to take a half-day off of work to “pre-game” at a bar. (Who pre-games an American Idol concert? I mean, come on. I’m a fan, yes… but they’re no U2 or Coldplay. Or Bon Jovi even, for goodness’ sake.) Then she wanted to take a full day and stalk the venue to see if we could snag a picture with Elliot.

One day, the week of the concert, Overshare came into my office.

Overshare: I’m so excited!
Anonymous: I am too.
Overshare: I’m on a mission.
Anonymous: Really?
Overshare: Yep. I’m taking Elliot home with me for some good old fashioned groupie sex.
Anonymous, flabbergasted: uhhh… I like Elliot too, but...
Overshare, looking slightly disappointed: Oh well… I guess we can have a threesome.

Ok, SO not what I meant.

Not even CLOSE to what I meant.

Anonymous: uh…er…well... uh… [blushes the Blush To End All Blushes]
Overshare: I was just kidding! We probably won’t have time anyway.
Anonymous: I have a lot of work to do.

The night of the concert finally arrived, and I met Overshare at the door. We walked around beforehand, surrounded by tweenagers and grandmas. Overshare kept pushing me to buy an Elliot poster for my office.

(Should I be ashamed to say that I was actually having a good time? In my defense, oversharing was at an all-time low.)

And then, the concert started. It was awesome. Until, about halfway through Bucky’s set, when Overshare put her arm around my chair.

Awkward.

I tried not to freak out, because seriously, it’s just an arm on the back of my chair. But, and my friends will all attest to this, Anonymous and crowds don’t really mix. Anonymous and random touching REALLY don’t mix. So Anonymous + random touching by Overshare in a crowd? Oh, hell no. Especially after the threesome comment. Then, she started talking to me, which if you’ve ever been to a concert you know actually means leaning into the other person and yelling directly into their ear.

And her comments? Usually went something like:

Overshare: I'm sorry I have my arm around your chair-- I just need the space.

Or something like:

Overshare: Everyone probably thinks we're totally that lesbian couple.

So I basically spent the rest of the night squirming in my seat, standing when I could and trying to resist the urge to flee while making sure not to do anything to encourage more talking, AKA touching-leaning-yelling.

But when Elliot came on, finally, all was forgotten. Overshare and I screamed like 10 year olds. And I enjoyed myself.

The next day, Overshare stopped by my office.

Overshare: That was fun.
Anonymous: Yeah, it was. Thanks for getting the tickets.
Overshare: No problem. Sorry I didn’t get Elliot to join us for some fun.
Anonymous: Uh… no problem?

If you ever see a competition for who has had to endure the most in order to see Elliot in concert, be sure to nominate me.

Help! My Swedish Nanny Looked At Me Funny!

2006-10-12T09:06:00.000-07:00

Overshare, standing in my doorway: Hee hee hee.
Anonymous: [Attempts to ignore. Yet again.]
Overshare: Hee Hee Hee.
Anonymous: [Silence.]
Overshare: [clears throat.] HEE HEE HEE.
Anonymous: Yes?
Overshare: Hee hee hee.
Anonymous: I’m really busy.
Overshare, sitting down: Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just giddy.
Anonymous: And why are you giddy?
Overshare: Oh, because CTF is coming to lunch today.
Anonymous: And this makes you giddy because…
Overshare: Oh, well, because he’s just doing it to get away from Swedish Nanny.
Anonymous: Things aren’t going too well?
Overshare, with no small amount of glee: She’s smothering him!
Anonymous: Incredible.
Overshare: I know!! You’d think she’d know by now that the way to get a man is to let him have his space.

Okay, I’ve been single for a while now so maybe I’m just not up-to-date on these new techniques, but really? Are we in high school? “The way to get a man?”

Anonymous: And what exactly constitutes “smothering?”
Overshare: Oh, you know. She’s always at his house.
Anonymous: She lives there.
Overshare: I know!
Anonymous: So, of course she’s always there. She’s unemployed.
Overshare: Yep! And it’s the best thing that ever happened to me, because CTF can’t wait for her to get deported! He even said he was considering reporting her to INS himself!
Anonymous: Is she doing anything illegal? Her visa isn't expired.
Overshare: Oh, well, CTF said he would just make something up.

Lunch Stalker

2006-10-03T19:14:00.000-07:00

One of the unfortunate ramifications of Witty Comeback being offered such a fabulous job in a far away location is that Overshare has decided I need a new lunch friend. And of course, she knows the perfect person to fill the job: her.

This shocks no one, I know.

But her version of becoming my lunch buddy doesn't just include her stopping by my office every day asking when I'm planning on going to lunch that day, or scoping out the local paper for new places to eat, or even hounding me on her way out the door to eat about joining her. Oh no.

She has now taken to waiting for me to leave the office, and then quickly following me out and feigning surprise at running into me in the food court.

I was sitting at a table outside one day, reading a very interesting book when Overshare approached to start her daily campaigning. I tried to look irritated, to no avail. I tried talking about how good this book is; the hint sailed right on by. She sat down and started talking. I finally just put the book away and stared at my plate while she droned on.

Overshare: Man, it's bright out here. Wanna go inside?
Anonymous: No. I want to eat here. You can go in if you want, though.
Overshare: Oh no, I adore the sun.
Anonymous: Even when it's bright?
Overshare: Well, it wouldn't be so bad if I had my sunglasses.
Anonymous: [Silently picks at food.]
Overshare: Yeah, I really wish I had my sunglasses.
Anonymous: [Silence.]
Overshare: Definitely a sunglasses day.
Anonymous: Hmm.

Clearly, Overshare wanted me to ask where her sunglasses could possibly be.

Overshare: Guess I should buy a new pair since CTF doesn't seem to be giving mine back any time soon.

Guess I was going to have to ask.

Anonymous: Why does CTF have your sunglasses?
Overshare: Oh, well... he was drunk at a bar one night and started mouthing off to this big burly guy and ended up getting the crap beat out of him.
Anonymous: And so he needed your sunglasses why?
Overshare: He's got two hideous black eyes. He's been wearing the sunglasses all week because he worries that two black eyes makes him look like a sissy.

Oh, well that's cleary taken care of when one wears something akin to these. Not sissy at all.

Announcements

2006-09-27T07:28:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, Overshare just overshares with one person at a time. Other times, she decides to overshare with the whole office at once.

Last week, she started a “conversation” with me while in the common area of our office, which, I’d like to point out, is actually quite far from where I actually sit. Maybe it’s just me, but I tend to start talking to someone when I can see him or her. I don’t really start shouting at them from a distance. Especially when I’m planning to shout something like this:

Overshare, yelling to everyone: Hey, Anonymous! Your porn came!
Entire Office: [shocked silence]
Overshare: Anonymous! Porn!

There was nothing I could do, folks. I exited my office as fast as I could, trying to think of what to do.

Unfortunately, all that came out was:

Anonymous: WHHAAAAAA?
Overshare: Your porn came!
Anonymous, blushing furiously even though she knows it can’t POSSIBLY be actual porn: Huh?
Overshare: See? Your porn!

At this point, Overshare thrust a perfectly normal, work-relevant, non-porn magazine into my hand. A small group of people stuck their heads out of their cubicles, I suspect to see if it was actual porn. Boss Man had even come out of his office to see what the commotion was about.

Anonymous, incoherent from embarrassment: But… wait… wha… huh?
Overshare: Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to call it porn…

Oh yes she did. She so very did mean to call it that.

Overshare: I just know you really like this magazine.
Anonymous: Yes, well.
Overshare: So, in a way, it IS like your porn.
Anonymous: [silence]
Overshare: Pretty kinky.

Let The Freak Out Begin!

2006-09-21T08:04:00.000-07:00

I know, I know… Bad Anonymous Coworker, leaving you all hanging like that. But seriously, every single time I went to start typing something up—Overshare herself would walk into my office. And having to deal with her approximately 395,485 times a day is so exhausting I’ve just gone straight to sleep when I get home. Sorry for the delay folks.

Overshare: So I totally got the explanation from CTF about why Swedish Nanny is living with him.
Anonymous: And?
Overshare: She was fired from her nanny job.
Anonymous: Oh! Do you know why?
Overshare: Something about CTF being over too much.

I have to say, if I were in the parents shoes—I wouldn’t want CTF anywhere near my house, either.

Anonymous: Ah. Yes, well…
Overshare: I’m actually kind of worried about her living there though—who knows how CTF will be when he has someone so accessible.
Anonymous: Accessible?
Overshare: But since she’s foreign, getting fired means she lost her visa sponsorship, right? Which means she’s going to have to leave! I win!
Anonymous: How long will she be staying with CTF?
Overshare: Oh, two or three months.
Anonymous: Months? A lot can happen in a few months.
Overshare: Nothing major.
Anonymous: You sure?
Overshare: What are you talking about?
Anonymous: She could get another nanny job.
Overshare: I don’t think she wants to; apparently she didn’t like it much.
Anonymous: What if Swedish Nanny wants CTF to marry her so she can stay?
Overshare: [silence]
Anonymous: Overshare?
Overshare: Ho. Ly. Shit.

Swedish Nanny: 1, Overshare: 0

2006-09-14T07:54:00.000-07:00

Because I find this endlessly entertaining, here are some of the latest Google searches to lead to this blog:

"Obsessed with my chest"
"Barefoot at my desk" (to whoever googled this: Please, don't. Thanks.)
"Evil Sorority"
"Twisted kind of pleasure" (ummm… ew?)
"Coworker does nothing"
"When I wear skirts" (I feel like this is the start of some crazy Madlib.)

And then there’s the completely unexplainable “wooden clogs blog -holland -dutch -tree –geta”. Huh?

And not once, not twice, but THREE TIMES have people googled “Large feet for a woman” and gotten here. Who knew that was so popular?

On to today's story.

Overshare: You will not BELIEVE what has happened now.
Anonymous: No, I probably won’t.
Overshare: Wanna guess?
Anonymous: Not really, no.
Overshare: Fine. You probably wouldn’t get it anyway.

Wait one second. Did she just insult my intelligence?

Anonymous: Hmph.
Overshare: CTF invited Swedish Nanny to move in with him!
Anonymous: [laughs, slightly hysterically.]
Overshare: It’s not funny.
Anonymous: Kind of, it is.
Overshare: No, it’s not! What am I going to do now?
Anonymous: Do?
Overshare: What am I going to DO?!?
Anonymous: What do you mean?
Overshare: Clearly, I have to do something. Or else she's going to win.

I wouldn't call it winning, Bob.

Anonymous: There’s not much you can do, is there? It’s CTF’s decision.
Overshare: I’m just going to have to up the sex, I guess. You know, really take it to the next level.
Anonymous: Err…
Overshare: He won’t know what hit him! Literally!

Mine eyes. They hurt.

Just, Please, Keep The Piercings To Yourself

2006-09-12T02:52:00.000-07:00

Every once in a while, my section of the company will have a meeting where some of the higher ups come in and talk about their section of the company, what they’re doing currently, what they’re planning, etc.

You know how sometimes before these things, while you are waiting for everyone to show up, there’s that random downtime that people usually fill with chatter about sports, or projects, or, you know, normal things? Imagine the chitchat that happens when you work with Overshare. Now imagine Overshare’s chitchat with a higher up in the room.

Actually, you don’t have to because I was there to experience it.

Overshare: Boss Man, do you have any tattoos?
Boss Man: No.
Overshare: What about you, Incredibly Important Uppity Up?
Incredibly Important Uppity Up: No.
Overshare: Oh. Wanna see mine?
IIUU, Boss Man simultaneously: No!
Overshare: Oh, it's no big deal... just a small tattoo.
Boss Man: We should get started.
Overshare: Oh, just take a quick look. [Pulls the back waistband of her pants down, shows tattoo the size of a half-dollar to the group.] Like it?
IIUU, dismissively: Couldn't see it, really.
Overshare: Oh. One sec. [Gets up, moves to stand in front of IIUU, does it again.] Like it?
IIUU: Interesting.

[Complete Silence in the room.]

IIUU: Let’s just get started, shall we?

Ben & Jerry Would Be So Proud

2006-09-06T17:13:00.000-07:00

One day after a rare company lunch outing, I ended up walking back to the office with Overshare and Toolshed. Trust me, I wasn't thrilled that the group broke down that way, but oh my damn am I kind of glad it happened. Because without that unfortunate incident, I'd never have witnessed this gem.

Overshare: Mmm... ice cream. We should stop and get ice cream.
Toolshed: Ice cream.
Overshare: Ice cream.
Toolshed: Iiiicccce Crrrrrrrrreeeeaaammmm.
Overshare: Ice. Ice. Ice. Crrrrreeeeeeeeaaaaam. CREEEAAAMMMM!!!

Yeah, folks. I don't know either. It was bizarre.

Toolshed: I'm a championship ice cream eater. Ice. Cream.
Overshare: Championship?
Toolshed: Championship. I eat a half-pint of ice cream every night.
Overshare: A half-pint? Of ice cream?

Seriously. At this point I was thisclose to screaming: Yes!! We've established that we (and I'm using the term "we" loosely, here) are talking about ice cream already. There's no need to keep. saying. ice. crrreeeeeaaaammmm.

Toolshed: Ice. Crrreeeaaaaaammmm.
Overshare: Wow. Is that how you maintain your svelte figure?
Toolshed: Sure is. I like to maintain a layer of fat over my muscular frame.
Overshare: Damn... without that ice cream you'd have no ass at all, would you?
Toolshed: Nope. And then what would you caress?

Boss + Alcohol = Bad Idea

2006-08-29T09:21:00.000-07:00

Have I mentioned that Overshare likes to drink?

I could have sworn I had.

This love of drinking soon lead to a stint as the self-appointed office social secretary.

Overshare: I have a brilliant idea.
Anonymous: Oh really?
Overshare: Yes. I'm going to institute a weekly Happy Hour.
Anonymous: Ohhhh.
Overshare: Yeah, we're going to go to a different bar every week-- doesn't that sound awesome?
Anonymous: Awesome.

Now... I'm all for the typical work happy hour that happens occasionally. Really, I am. But weekly? We spend 8 hours a day, five days a week together-- I see no reason to plan to spend another 2-4 hours weekly after work with my coworkers. That's when I see my friends. Not to say I don't have coworkers who become friends (such as Witty Comeback) but Overshare? Wyoming? They don't fall into that category.

Anonymous: Every week, huh?
Overshare: Every week.
Anonymous: Great.

At that moment, Boss Man walked by my office.

Overshare, yelling: Hey, Boss Man!! Come out drinking with us!

Boss Man kept walking down the hall.

Overshare, to me: I'll get you the details later.
Overshare, exiting my office and following Boss Man: Hey! Hey, Boss Man!! Come out drinking with us! We're gonna get trashed!

Just Drink Vodka, You'll Be Fine

2006-08-24T10:19:00.000-07:00

Overshare: I totally met this guy last night.
Anonymous: Where?
Overshare: Oh, at a bar.
Anonymous: Of course.
Overshare: He was SOOOOOO cute, Anonymous.
Anonymous: I'm sure he was.
Overshare: Like, sex on the first date cute.
Anonymous: Is that really a category?
Overshare: Huh?
Anonymous: Never mind.
Overshare: Yeah, but I totally screwed it up.
Anonymous: How is that?
Overshare: Well, when he first approached, I was finishing my beer and didn't get a chance to take a really good look at him.
Anonymous: I thought he was sex on the first date cute.
Overshare: Oh, he definitely is… I just didn't really look at him until after we had started talking.
Anonymous: Okaaaayy….
Overshare: Yeah.
Anonymous: I'm sorry—you're going to have to explain how you screwed it up.
Overshare: Well, since I didn't realize how cute he was at first, I totally gave him my bar name!

Bar Name? Check it out: Urban Dictionary. Who knew?

Anonymous: You have a fake bar name?
Overshare: Yeah, of course!
Anonymous: Of course.
Overshare: So I totally spent all night talking to this hottie, and the whole time he thought my name was Aksana!

All Points Bulletin: Overshare in no way looks Russian. Or any kind of Eastern European, for that matter.

I could barely contain myself at this point. My steely resolve nearly cracked under the pressure of this little tidbit of information.

Anonymous, voice squeaking from holding in a laugh: Aksana?
Overshare: Yeah. It's exotic.

Personally, I think Areola Boobitch is much more appropriate.

Anonymous: It sure is.
Overshare: So the real question is: do you think I can get away with it?
Anonymous: With what?
Overshare: We're going out tonight-- do you think I can pull off the Aksana personality for that long?
Anonymous, completely lying: Oh, most definitely.

No Flannel, Huh?

2006-08-22T06:24:00.000-07:00

Overshare: What do you wear to bed at night?

I honestly don't know what shocked me more, folks… the fact that she's asking me a question about myself or the very idea that she thinks I would ever answer this question in a million years. Why would anyone ever need to know this piece of information?

Anonymous: Er…
Overshare: [waiting patiently]

She actually wanted me to answer. For the first time ever, she wanted me to respond. I almost answered her honestly, out of pure shock.

I said almost.

Anonymous: Er…
Overshare: Well?
Anonymous: Er… why?
Overshare: CTF and I started sleeping naked, and it’s great. I really recommend it.

Who in the SAM HELL recommends to coworkers that they start sleeping in the nude? Or maybe she was offering CTF’s services. I was too scared to ask.

Overshare: Seriously. It’s so sensual and freeing. Give it a shot.

They're Taking Over Hollywood!

2006-08-17T08:29:00.000-07:00

Oh-My-God-I-Loved-It: Anonymous, did you see Napoleon Dynamite?
Anonymous: Yeah, I thought it was—
OMG: Didn’t you love it? Oh my God, I loved it!
Anonymous: It was pretty funny.
OMG: Didn’t you think it was funny? It was so funny!
Anonymous: I loved the scene where Uncle Rico takes Kip’s steak—
OMG: I LOVE the scene where Uncle Rico takes Kip’s steak and throws it at Napoleon! Didn’t you think that was funny? It was so funny!
Anonymous: Yep, I thought it was funny.
OMG: Did you know that everyone involved in the movie is Mormon?

I hope you’re all ready for another religion lesson.

Anonymous: Well, I know the writers are, but I don’t think everyone was.
OMG: Oh, no. I have friends that work in Hollywood, and they said it was one of the requirements for being on set.
Anonymous: Really? Because there are some semi-famous actors in it that I’m pretty sure aren’t Mormon.
OMG: I’m sure. You absolutely HAD to be a Mormon. The writers refused to work with anyone who wasn’t.
Anonymous: I’m pretty sure Diedrich Bader isn’t Mormon.
OMG: If he’s in the movie, he had to be.
Anonymous: Haylie Duff isn’t Mormon.
OMG: Wait, who is she?
Anonymous: Hillary Duff’s sister—she played Summer Wheatly.
OMG: I’m telling you, everyone in the movie is Mormon.
Anonymous: Even the girl who played LaFawnduh?
OMG: EVERYONE.
Anonymous: Pedro, too?
OMG: [huffs, walks away.]

Was Felon Jr. Taken?

2006-08-15T05:37:00.000-07:00

Overshare: Jock Itch.
Anonymous: WHAT?
Overshare: Jock. Itch.

I have to say-- in all of my wildest dreams, I have never once imagined I would hear the sweet utterance of a coworker talking about such a thing in my workplace. I am glad it happened so early on in my career, though I do wonder if I've now reached the pinnacle of my professional life. And, p.s.-- what a delightfully named fungus. I truly don't understand why we don't promote it. Heck, I think we, as a society, should start discussing all "opportunistic infections" more, and maybe that was what Overshare was attempting to do. To shed light on the situation and call it out of darkness, to remove the stigma so commonly attached to such things and brings the victims peace of mind and solidarity in the fight.

Or maybe not.

Anonymous: Am I supposed to know why you're saying that?
Overshare: What do you think of it?
Anonymous: Huh?
Overshare: Do you think it would be a good name?
Anonymous: A NAME?
Overshare: Yeah. Jock Itch. Kind of catchy.

Hot damn, that's the best pun I've heard in a while and it went right over her head.

Anonymous: [giggles]
Overshare, irritated: What? What's so funny?
Anonymous: Nothing.
Overshare: Whatever. So, last night CTF and I were discussing what we want to name our kids.

Right, because that's the next logical step after you've planned your wedding.

Anonymous: Oh.
Overshare: Yeah. And he said that he wanted to name his kids Jock Itch and Foot, if they are boys. And Stripper and Whore if they are girls. He thinks it would be funny if teachers had to call a kid Whore all the time.
Anonymous: Oh yeah. Hysterical.
Overshare: I think he was just kidding.
Anonymous: You think he was kidding?
Overshare: About Stripper and Whore, anyway. He seemed to be serious about Jock Itch though.
Anonymous: Ugh.
Overshare: Yeah, he said that since he's going to screw his kids up anyway, he might as well get a head start.

And as an added bonus today, check out the other naming options for CTF's kids here, at the bottom of the page.

Sad News

2006-08-09T10:26:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry I haven't been more faithful in posting, dear readers. I can only say it's because this summer has found me busier than usual at my job.

I do have some sad news: Witty Comeback has left my office. She's left for a far grander place, for sure, and hopefully won't have a coworker who comes near to the one who inspired this blog. This does leave me, sadly, without someone to email when Overshare ambushes me in my office.

In the course of her departing, several old emails were discovered though, detailing some Overshare stories that had been forgotten. So the good news is that I've come across more overshares to share! This does nothing, of course, to help the Barnacle situation which I fear shall become dire. We shall see.

That said, enjoy this rediscovered gem from the time when my office was in the hiring process for Wyoming's job.

Overshare, walking straight into my office: Don't mind me.
Anonymous: Huh?
Overshare, putting her ear to my wall: SHHH!
Anonymous: What are you doing?
Overshare: They're interviewing my friend right now, next door.
Anonymous: You're listening in?!?
Overshare: Of course.
Anonymous: Not from here. Get out.
Overshare, in anguish: WHY?!?
Anonymous: Because.
Overshare, upset: Fine.

She then proceeded to stand just outside my door, still leaning into my office trying to hear the conversation through my wall.

Anonymous: No, really. Stop doing that.
Overshare: WHY?!?
Anonymous: Because I have work to do. And it's distracting.
Overshare: Oh, puh-lease.
Anonymous: I just don't like it, ok?
Overshare: Why do you have to be such a raging bitch sometimes?

Now, friends... of all things I may be, a raging bitch is not one of them. Truly. A bitch, maybe a case could be made for that, sometimes. But a RAGING bitch? Oh no.

Anonymous: Ummm.
Overshare: Fine. FINE!

She then stood by the copy machine for the next hour, trying to listen from there.

We're Having a Heat Wave

2006-08-04T05:38:00.000-07:00

Overshare: God, I hate the summer.

Why do I feel like I’ve heard this before? Oh wait, because I have. Of course, back then, I thought I had heard the “Summer is too hot” rant. I didn’t realize there was more to come.

Anonymous: Hmm.
Overshare: I just feel so gross.
Anonymous: Yes, well… it’s not like this is normal weather, either. It’s bound to break sometime.
Overshare: Yeah, but I’m on my period and it’s just getting disgusting.

Oh. Holy. Hell.

Overshare: Like, really disgusting.

A Good Foundation

2006-08-01T21:34:00.000-07:00

A long while after Christmas, Overshare walked into my office.

Overshare: I got CTF an iPod for Christmas. A good one.

What the heck? I mean, come on now… an iPod?? Who gets their non-boyfriend a $300 Christmas gift? I didn’t get my actual boyfriend a $300 gift when we were actually dating; forget after we broke up. And there wasn’t even a Swedish Nanny in the picture.

Anonymous: That’s a nice gift.
Overshare: You have one, don’t you?
Anonymous: Yes.
Overshare: Well, I have an older iPod, and now I’m really tempted to just give CTF my old one and keep this new one. He doesn’t even have a computer, so I’m in charge of loading it up anyway.
Anonymous: Err…

What exactly do you say to someone who gives an extravagant gift to an undeserving guy, but then wants to essentially revoke it? I mean, talk about an ethical quandary… she shouldn’t have given the gift in the first place, but taking it back? That’s horrible too.

Overshare: Oh well, I guess I’ll let him have the new one.
Anonymous: Very nice of you.
Overshare: Yeah, well. I’m just going to be loading up all my music anyway.
Anonymous: Do you guys share the same music taste?
Overshare: Are you kidding? We have everything in common. Except, you know, I’m not a criminal.

So... Guns at Twenty Paces or the Joust?

2006-07-27T09:48:00.000-07:00

One day, I noticed that Overshare kept walking past my office. More than normal. And she wasn’t stopping by to overshare, either. Finally, towards the end of the day, I ran into her in the hallway outside my office.

Anonymous: What have you been doing all day?
Overshare: What do you mean?
Anonymous: Why have you been walking by my office all day?
Overshare: Shhh…. TSS will hear you. [half-pushes, half-herds me into my own office and shuts the door.] I’m spying on TSS.
Anonymous: What?
Overshare: I’m spying on TSS.
Anonymous: Why?
Overshare: Because I’ve heard her on the phone the past few days, planning a party for her sorority.
Anonymous: Really?
Overshare: Yeah, and she got a fax too, from the restaurant downstairs.
Anonymous: Why there? She lives an hour away!
Overshare: I know, I can’t explain the logic either.

Need I say anything about how much I wanted to breakdown at that moment? The very idea that Overshare has any ground to questions someone else’s logic… it’s enough to give me a cramp in my side from laughing.

Overshare: So I’ve been walking by her office every half hour or so—she’s totally working on this party! All day long!! I can’t believe it.

This from the woman who waited to call the police until the day after a confrontation with Swedish Nanny because she knew it’d be slow at work.

Overshare: I’m going to start documenting all of this stuff, so that I can show Boss Man.

And that, dear friends, is the sound of a gauntlet being thrown down. Forget applying for a promotion, forget trying to make the best of things, oh no. I think that, if there’s one thing we can say about Overshare, it’s that she never, ever, does things the easy way.

Mar-ar-arried

2006-07-25T10:57:00.000-07:00

Anonymous: Wasn’t this the weekend of your friend’s wedding?
Overshare: Yep!
Anonymous: How did it go?
Overshare: Oh, it was fantastic. CTF and I had such a great time. I just love weddings—I always see all these things that I want to incorporate into my own wedding someday. [big sigh]
Anonymous: Yeah.
Overshare: CTF and I decided that flowers are going to be our number one budget item. It’s just not a wedding without flowers.
Anonymous: You discussed your wedding?
Overshare: Yeah, while we were dancing. Right before my mom interrupted us.
Anonymous: Why did your mom interrupt you?
Overshare: Oh, she said we were being inappropriate or some such.

Oh dear Lord. This is one of those few times when I wish Overshare would actually have shared more. Oh how I wanted to ask exactly why her mom thought she was being inappropriate, but I also knew that those kinds of questions would only lead to more oversharing of the sort that makes me want to stab myself in the ear. For the sake of my eardrums, I let it slide.

Anonymous: Yeah… so I take it everything went well with his parole officer?
Overshare, obviously irritated: It’s his probation officer, not his parole officer.

That misstatement was obviously my fault. I can understand why she’d be so irritated.

Anonymous: Sorry.
Overshare: Yes, it all worked out. I got him a train ticket down and back on Sunday afternoon.
Anonymous: So you drove back this morning for work?
Overshare: Oh no. We drove down Sunday night.
Anonymous: Wait. He trained down here for a three-hour meeting, trained back up for a few hours and then drove home with you?
Overshare: Yeah. Why?
Anonymous: Seems complicated. Why didn’t he just stay down here—the wedding was already over, right?
Overshare: Yes, the wedding was over, but it’s the principle of the matter, Anonymous. He promised me the whole weekend. I deserved the whole weekend.

...And We're Gonna Get...

2006-07-21T07:15:00.000-07:00

A month or so after the conversation from my last post, I had a serious longing for some chocolate. Like, a full blown I-don’t-know-how-I’ll-finish-working-if-I-don’t-have-chocolate RIGHT NOW jonesing.

Anonymous: Overshare, you don’t happen to have any chocolate, do you? I’m desperate.
Overshare: Here. [Hands me a large basket of candy, complete with green plastic grass.]
Anonymous: Wait, what’s all this?
Overshare: CTF’s Easter Basket.
Anonymous: Easter was over a week ago; why do you still have this?
Overshare: CTF never picked it up.
Anonymous: Oh. [Unwraps some chocolate.] Here you go.
Overshare: Keep it.
Anonymous: What?
Overshare: Keep it.
Anonymous: Aren’t you going to give it to CTF?
Overshare: Not now.
Anonymous: Why?
Overshare: Remember that wedding I invited CTF to?
Anonymous: Yeah…
Overshare: Well, he asked for the time off and got it.
Anonymous: Doesn’t that earn him some candy?
Overshare: Yes, except that he “just found out” that he actually has to meet with his parole officer this weekend.
Anonymous: Oh.
Overshare: So NOW I’m pissed. It was supposed to be a whole weekend, Anonymous! And NOW he has to meet with his stupid parole officer, so I’m killing myself trying to figure out how in the hell I’m going to get him back here for three hours on Sunday.
Anonymous: WHAT?
Overshare: I’m looking at bus tickets, train tickets, plane tickets, renting a car… trying to figure what’s the cheapest way to go, because I don’t have a lot of money to spend.
Anonymous: You are paying?
Overshare: Yeah.
Anonymous: YOU are paying for CTF to get home for three hours to meet with his parole officer?
Overshare: Well, yeah. After all, I’m the one who invited him to the wedding in the first place.
Anonymous: I don’t see how that means you have to pay for his travel.
Overshare: Well, it might not even work out.
Anonymous: Then what will you do?
Overshare: Stay home.
Anonymous: You won’t go at all?
Overshare: How could I possibly go without him? Especially since I RSVP'd for two and made this huge deal about how he was coming along?
Anonymous: Er…

Easily?

Overshare: No, no, no. This just has to work out.

At this point, I'm still standing in her office and holding what I now realize is a garish Easter Basket.

Anonymous: What do you want me to do with this?
Overshare: Oh, I don't know. Just pass it around the office, I guess.

Going to the Chapel...

2006-07-19T07:37:00.000-07:00

Overshare: I got invited to a friend’s wedding in a different state.
Anonymous: That sounds fun!

At the time that this conversation took place I was attempting the unsuccessful and ill-advised tactic of encouraging Overshare to talk to me, but only about subjects other than CTF. My hope was that, if encouraged over other conversation topics, she would not feel the need to discuss CTF. So if she mentioned the Felon, I would “appear” disinterested and busy, but when she talked of something else, I would smile and engage.

She never noticed.

Ever.

Overshare: We’ve been friends since elementary school.
Anonymous: Wow. I don’t think I’ve talked to anyone from my elementary school since high school graduation!
Overshare: Her mom and my mom were best friends, so we’ve always kept in touch.
Anonymous: That’s cool. Are you going to go to the wedding?
Overshare: Well, CTF has to work.

God forbid she attend her good friend’s wedding without CTF, who is not actually her boyfriend. (I just thought I'd remind you all of that fact since it can be easy to forget, what with all the sex!)

That’s just crazy-talk.

Anonymous: Oh.
Overshare: Yeah. It just wouldn’t be a wedding without him.

Yep. I’m sure that’s what the bride thinks, too.

Anonymous: Oh.
Overshare: He said he’s going to try and take off of work.
Anonymous: Oh.
Overshare: I hope he can.
Anonymous: Oh.
Overshare: I couldn’t possibly go without him
Anonymous: Oh.
Overshare: Yeah… definitely not. I guess technically I’m not even supposed to bring a guest, because there’s no “and guest” on the invitation. I’m sure she won’t mind though, since we’ve been good friends for so long.

If it were me, I’d mind. I would. So. Very. Mind.

And not just because he’s a sex offender who is using my good friend for sex, either.

Complex Shagging

2006-07-17T08:07:00.000-07:00

Just for fun, here are some of the latest search phrases that have lead people to this blog:

What makes a man stop calling after sex

Wife share

Discussing coworker salaries

Daisy Duke Birthday Party

Coworker cubicle slamming doors

I wonder if whoever googled “Daisy Duke Birthday Party” decided for or against having one for themselves after reading our thoughts on the subject…

Overshare: Guess what I did this weekend.
Anonymous: Got drunk?
Overshare: Obviously.

Sidenote: I’m giving every single one of you (even those I don’t know, though it’s going to be harder for you to enforce) the permission to slap me without warning should ever my answer to “Got drunk?” ever come close to resembling “Obviously.” Clearly, I would have a drinking problem and would require a good smack to the face.

Anonymous: Obviously.
Overshare: Buuuuutttt…
Anonymous: There’s more?
Overshare, enthusiastically: Of course there’s more!
Anonymous, far less enthusiastically: Of course there’s more.
Overshare: Well, see… Wyoming’s and my new apartment complex threw a party in the recreation room on Saturday night.
Anonymous: Oh.
Overshare: Yeah, open bar so of course we were there!
Anonymous: Your apartment complex threw an open bar party?
Overshare: Well, either that or the bartender liked us so much he didn’t charge us!
Anonymous: Ahhh.
Overshare: So there was the really, really hot guy there.
Anonymous: Hmm.
Overshare: I mean REALLY hot.
Anonymous: Yep.
Overshare: So I walked up to him, and asked if he liked me.
Anonymous: Wait, just like that?
Overshare: Of course!

Again with the confidence. It’s mind-boggling.

Anonymous: Of course.
Overshare: So, he said he did—and then he grabbed my ass! Right there in front of everyone!
Anonymous: What did you do?
Overshare: Grabbed his.
Anonymous: Of course.
Overshare: Anyway, yadda yadda… I took him home with me!
Anonymous: Because that’s what you do with guys you just met.
Overshare: He was amazing. Absolutely amazing… but now I’m confused.
Anonymous: Confused?
Overshare: Yeah… because Sunday morning, when he woke up… he grabbed his clothes and said he was going to take a look at my dishwasher before he left.

Yeah, I'd be confused too.

Anonymous: Huh?
Overshare: Well…
Anonymous: What?
Overshare: It turns out that he is the handyman for the apartment complex!
Anonymous: Oh. Wait, so why are you still confused?
Overshare: Well, I can’t remember if he told me he was a handyman and I slept with him anyway, or if he never told me and I should be mad at him about that.

Can You Get That At The Duty-Free?

2006-07-12T10:21:00.000-07:00

I’m Baaaaaa-aaaccckkkkk!!! Did you miss me?

Boss Man recently had to travel for work. It’s a rare occasion, but there was no getting out of this particular trip. To say that Boss Man wasn’t exactly looking forward to it is an understatement, and who can blame him because, really, going to Paris for free when the weather is gorgeous must be trying. Spending that per diem can be a stressful thing, you know?

Boss Man, loudly, while standing in the office common area: Anyone want me to bring them anything back from France?

Now, most of my office was silent at this point. After a few moments, there’s a couple of “Oh, a bottle of wine would be nice…” from some of the other senior-level execs, but we, the peons? We say nothing.

Except for Overshare, that is.

Overshare: Yeah, bring me back a gorgeous French man!!

Oi vey.

Boss Man: Excuse me?
Overshare, kind of growling: A FIIIINNNNE French Man!!
Boss Man: Er…
Overshare: Oh come on, Boss Man! You’re supposed to be helping us out!

Tell Me Those Walls Are Sound-Proof

2006-06-29T10:44:00.000-07:00

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.

Obviously, I Have a Sub-Par Calendar

2006-06-27T01:30:00.000-07:00

Toolshed: Squuuuueeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!

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.

That's Exactly The Point

2006-06-22T00:41:00.000-07:00

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.

Wha' Happened?

2006-06-21T09:27:00.000-07:00

OhgoodnessIhadover100visitsTuesdayandIamfreakingout.

(Takes deep breath)

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.

Should You Be THAT Happy?

2006-06-20T11:58:00.000-07:00

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.

Yes, But When Do I Get To Meet Pat Sajak?

2006-06-16T10:01:00.000-07:00

Tyrannical Sorority Sister: Guess what?

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!

Drunk Dialing

2006-06-13T03:32:00.000-07:00

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.

Are Bo and Luke Invited?

2006-06-09T06:56:00.000-07:00

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?

Five Minutes Ago

2006-06-06T07:34:00.000-07:00

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.

Cupid Must Have Overslept

2006-06-02T09:39:00.000-07:00

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?

Define "Promotion"

2006-05-31T02:38:00.000-07:00

Overshare: I’m getting a promotion.
Anonymous: You are??
Overshare: Yep.
Anonymous: Wow. Congratulations.
Overshare: Well, technically I haven’t gotten it yet.
Anonymous: What do you mean?
Overshare: Well, I applied for the new position they created in Separate Department.
Anonymous: I didn’t realize you were interested in doing what Separate Department does.
Overshare: Oh, well… I’m not really. [Giggles.] I just don’t want to work for Tyrannical Sorority Sister anymore.

Separate Department is a highly specialized area of my company. It’s hard to explain without giving away some of my oh-so-precious anonymity, so I’ll just leave it at: it takes a very, very particular type of person to fulfill the job function. Some of the requisite character traits include: class, sophistication, and diplomacy.

Notice that “trashy”, “crude”, or “talks too much” are not on that list.

The absolute best part of this career change that Overshare is endeavoring to make is Separate Department’s boss. She is the antithesis of TSS. I shall call her Ultimate Class.

Ultimate Class is this incredibly refined, polished, elegant older woman, who has been doing her job for a QUARTER CENTURY. That is not a typo. 25 years.

Now while Separate Department is, as the name indicates, separate from my department we often find ourselves working very closely together. As such, Separate Department’s workers are often invited to my department’s social events, such as birthdays, happy hours, etc. At one such event, Ultimate Class achieved what I think all of Overshare’s victims hope to one day achieve: silencing her, while managing to both convey the inappropriateness of her chosen subject matter and maintaining her high level of class. The conversation went something like this:

[Scene: 20ish coworkers are all jammed into a little office for a surprise birthday rendezvous, complete with cake. Everyone is talking and laughing.]
Overshare, talking loudly in an attempt to be heard over the crowd: So last night, CTF and I tried this new toy…
Ultimate Class: Overshare, how did you like the movie I saw you at the other night?
Overshare: It was ok… but this new toy…
Ultimate Class, softly: Shhh. We don’t need to know.

I had to leave the office because I was completely incapable of reining in a belly laugh at the look on Overshare’s face.

So now, Overshare is attempting to work directly for Ultimate Class. We all know this is only going to happen if God himself steps down and fills out the HR paperwork.

Anonymous: Have you been told when your interview will be?
Overshare: Why would they need to interview me? I could start next week!

He Said, She Said

2006-05-26T07:47:00.000-07:00

If there’s one thing I can thank Overshare for (and trust me, it has taken me about two years to come up with this one thing) it’s that she’s made me more aware of how I sound to other people, especially in the area of story telling. I’m very careful now to change things up, because Overshare sure as hell never does.

I swear to you all right here, right now: if Overshare tells the tale of yet another fight with CTF in the “And then he said… and then I said… and he was like…and I was like…” genre I’m going, as one reader suggested, to fake my own death and move to Mexico.

Now that I’ve got you good and prepped, I present yet another CTF and Overshare fight. Enjoy the insanity. The inanity. The sheer “Duh!” factor.

Overshare: CTF and I got into a fight last night.
Anonymous: You’re kidding.
Overshare: No. Why would I be kidding?

Sidenote #1: I wish Overshare would at least make these experiences somewhat enjoyable for me. Like, you know, picking up on my sarcasm. But she doesn’t.

Overshare: Anyway… I went to Skank Bar and there was this new girl there, Anonymous.
Anonymous: Wait… a NEW girl?
Overshare: See what I mean? You can’t believe it either!
Anonymous: A different girl from Swedish Nanny?
Overshare: YES! That’s what I’m saying!

Sidenote #2: Do we live in Bizarro World? Cause seriously. I know that most of you have not seen CTF and can’t really picture what he looks like… some of you have though. I will say this, and I hope you’ll take me at my word on this. CTF is IN NO WAY attractive. He’s not “fine” in a burly bouncer kind of way. He’s not “cute” in that pedophile kind of way.** He’s not even “oh, he has a great personality.” He’s just… gross. Gross, I tell you.

Why in the WORLD does he have women licking the soles of his feet to be with him? We’re talking “I’d rather date Steve Buscemi”, here people.

Because at least Steve Buscemi is a kick-ass actor.

Anonymous: So… let me guess. You and CTF fought about the New Girl.
Overshare, actually sounding chipper about it: Of course!
Anonymous: [Silence. I don’t need to persuade her to share… this story is coming whether I say something or not.]
Overshare: So I said, “Who the HELL is this?” and he said, “New Girl. New Girl, meet Overshare.”
Anonymous: [Silence.]
Overshare: So the New Girl had the audacity to say, “Who the HELL is this??” and I turned to her and said… guess, what I said.
Anonymous: I’m afraid I could never do it justice.
Overshare: I said, “Oh, don’t mind me. I’m just the ex-girlfriend, current best-friend, basically your worst nightmare.” Isn’t that an awesome thing to say?

Sidenote #3: I don’t know what breaks my heart more… the fact that she’s obviously practiced what she would say should this conversation ever take place, the fact that she’s so frickin’ proud of her own wittiness, or the fact that she cares so much about such a loser that she can’t see the pathetic-ness of her so-called "witty" comment.

Anonymous: Hmmm.
Overshare: So then I said, “CTF, just get your new ho into the bar so we can talk.” And he said, “Ok.”
Anonymous: HE SAID “OK?????”
Overshare: Isn’t that awesome?!?
Anonymous: Not if you’re New Girl, it’s not.
Overshare: Whatever. So then I said, “What’s with the New Girl?” and he said, “Oh, she’s just filler. Since you won’t date me still.” Isn’t that sweet?
Anonymous, whispering to herself: On Bizarro World, maybe.
Overshare: Huh? Whatever. So then I said, “Just face it. We’re never going to date again. Ever. For now. Until Swedish Nanny leaves the country.”

Never. Ever. For Now. Until Swedish Nanny leaves the country.

Oh. My. Damn.

** Please, please, please tell me you caught the sarcasm.

Family Security

2006-05-23T07:15:00.000-07:00

One day, I walked into the office kitchen and came face to face with the security guard that sits in the office lobby. This is, by no means, an every day occurrence.

Neither one of us said anything. She continued making her coffee (even using someone's half-and-half from the office fridge) while I put my lunch in the freezer and moved on to my office.

A short while later, Security Guard walked by my office, coffee in hand, and entered Tyrannical Sorority Sister's office. A moment later, I heard her door shut... and a few minutes after that, I heard them hysterically laughing through our thin walls.

TSS had made a friend.

Interesting, indeed... and I found myself wondering if Security Guard was solicited to buy some candles, too. But overall, this situation isn't necessarily blog-worthy, is it?

Except for the fact that later on that very same day, Overshare would get called into TSS's office for a lecture about meeting CTF for lunch. As in, TSS didn't think it was very "appropriate" to meet for lunch with a non-coworker. Even if said lunch was off of company property.

Apparently, it's perfectly ok though to give Security Guard free reign of the office, coffee maker, and some poor Marketing Intern's creamer.

Later that week, TSS entered my office:

TSS: I'm selling raffle tickets.
Anonymous: Oh.
TSS: Want to buy some?
Anonymous: Well, you know, it's in-between paychecks...
TSS, turning on a sickeningly sweet voice: It's for a good cause.
Anonymous: I'm sure it is...
TSS: Security Guard's family picnic.
Anonymous: Security Guard's family picnic? Are you related?
TSS: No.

We paused for a moment here. Call me crazy, but I was kind of waiting for some explanation, some connection to Security Guard that would explain why TSS was peddling raffle tickets (and, by the way, who sells raffle tickets to complete strangers for a family picnic??) for her. No such explanation ever came.

Anonymous: I just don't think I can swing it right now.
TSS: I must say I'm disappointed. I thought you considered yourself a supporter of innercity kids. I have them until close of business tomorrow. You just let me know if you decide you can spare a dollar or two for some poor urban families.

Help!

2006-05-19T07:40:00.000-07:00

Oh dear internet friends, I have a problem. I have a Barnacle.

Definition of a Barnacle, you ask? A Barnacle is someone who attaches onto you when you stop being vigilant. Next thing you know, you take a look and find out that this creature has latched onto your side and refuses to let go without a fair amount of force.

My Barnacle has a first name, it's O-v-e-r-s-h-a-r-e.

Somewhere along the line, I stopped being careful. And now, Overshare thinks we're BFF For Life.

It started out, as these things do, when I let an obsession for a certain American Idol creep up unchecked. You see, I love Elliott Yamin. I'm a Yaminion. I admit it.

And I know what you're thinking... but, Anonymous, isn't Overshare stalking Taylor Hicks? How does her obsession and your obsession coincide? Elliott and Taylor... there's no real middle ground here.

Well, one day, Overshare came into my office and informed me that she had changed her mind, that she was now a full-blown Yaminion too. That should have been my first red flag, my first warning that a barnacle was about to attach. But I wasn't paying attention, just happy to have another person aboard the E-Train.

Soon, every Tuesday we'd discuss the show... and Wednesday we'd discuss the results. Harmless, really. And then one Thursday... we started talking about what Elliott should sing... and then Friday... and Monday....

And then, it happened. The fatal mistake.

I had a work function one Tuesday night, and I was going to miss the performances, but was going to be out in time to vote. I lamented this to Overshare, wondering how I would find out what number E had been... when she offered to text message me the info. In the haze of my fixation, I gave her my cell phone number. Hell, I even thanked her profusely.

Now, she calls. Every night. When Elliott was voted off this week, she called before the show was over to cry with me. She texts all the time.

I must admit, after the pain of losing Elliott in the competition faded... a small part of my soul was looking forward to having this tie to Overshare cut. Little did I know she had turned into a full-fledged Barnacle.

I had an Unfortunate Incident this past weekend, of which I'll spare you the details, suffice it to say that there was a small amount of bodily harm inflicted on me by strangers. When Overshare found out, she called someone.... that person not being me.... care to guess?

CTF. He's offered me his protection. He wants to buy me mace.

And it's not just that. She calls every day. She offers to eat lunch together every day. She pleads with me to go to happy hours. She switches place cards at work dinners so we sit next to each other.

Fan-frickin-tastic. What have I done, dear readers??

More importantly, what shall I do?

Ground Rules

2006-05-16T10:32:00.000-07:00

Anonymous: So, what play did you crazy kids see this weekend?
Overshare: We didn’t.
Anonymous: Oh… so you’re seeing one soon?
Overshare: No, we’re not.
Anonymous: Okay…
Overshare: Here’s the thing. I went over to his house on Saturday to pick him up. We had tickets to go see Wicked.
Anonymous: You had tickets but didn’t go?
Overshare: Yep.
Anonymous: Why?
Overshare: I had wanted to grab some dinner first, but when I brought it up he said he didn’t want me to pick him up too early because he had promised his mom he would do some stuff around the house.
Anonymous: Ok.
Overshare: But I thought something was up, so I went over early anyway.
Anonymous: Uhoh.
Overshare: Uhoh is right!! She was there.
Anonymous: Swedish Nanny?
Overshare: YES! Can you even believe that?
Anonymous: Well, kind of, yes.
Overshare, ignoring me: So, Anonymous… I completely lost it.
Anonymous: Lost it how?
Overshare: I snapped. I walked in the front door of his house (read: his parent’s house) and found them on the couch in the living room, making out. I just completely snapped.
Anonymous: Snapped how, exactly?
Overshare: I started throwing stuff.
Anonymous: Throwing stuff?
Overshare: Oh, not at CTF. At Swedish Nanny.
Anonymous: Oh, well then…
Overshare: And that little witch actually ran from me. She ran down to CTF’s room in the basement and locked herself in down there. So I just started yelling and screaming at CTF. His parents came down from upstairs and tried to get me to calm down, but I wasn’t having any of it. I can’t even believe that he was with her instead of having dinner with me before the show.
Anonymous, thinking that this could be the end of CTF: How did things end?
Overshare: Well, when I finally calmed down enough, I laid down some ground rules.
Anonymous: Ground rules? You mean you’re giving him another chance?
Overshare: Well, yeah. Of course! He loves me; it’s just that Swedish Nanny won’t let him go.
Anonymous: Of course.
Overshare: So the rules are: 1. Swedish Nanny is not to be seen. I don’t want to be anywhere near where she is, ever. 2. No more of the two-dates-in-one-day thing. If he sees her, he won’t see me until the next day. 3. If he sleeps with Swedish Nanny, then he’s not to sleep with me for at least two days.
Anonymous: So you just left it at that?
Overshare: Yeah, I went home and he went downstairs to calm down Swedish Nanny.
Anonymous: And the tickets?
Overshare: I gave them to his parents.

Just Like A Pearl

2006-05-11T09:04:00.000-07:00

Overshare: You know what I love about CTF the most?
Anonymous: Ugh. No.
Overshare: He’s so cultured.

It’s ok. I know you need to read it again, so I’ll just wait here.

Ready? Just so we’re on the same page:

Cultured, defined: Civilized; marked by refinement in taste and manners; "cultivated speech"; "cultured tastes"; "a genteel old lady"; "polite society".

Anonymous: Cultured?
Overshare: Yeah. I asked him what he wanted to do this weekend and he got all quiet… like he had something to say but didn’t know how to say it, so I had to prod him a bit and he finally said… Guess.
Anonymous: Guess?
Overshare: Yeah, guess what he said.
Anonymous: Er… to see a movie?
Overshare: That’s what I thought too! But he’s so cultured… he wants to go see a play instead.
Anonymous: That’s cool. What play?
Overshare: Oh, he said he didn’t have an opinion, as long as it doesn’t suck and he's home in time to watch wrestling on TV.

Cultured, like she said.

Excel-lent

2006-05-08T16:07:00.000-07:00

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.

Nary a Hair

2006-05-05T05:30:00.000-07:00

Overshare: I had my pap smear this morning.
Anonymous: Er...
Overshare: Nothing to worry about, apparently. I was a little scared because CTF was pretty rough last night, but the doctor didn't say anything about it.
Anonymous: [stomach turns]
Overshare: He gave me the nicest compliment too...
Anonymous, who needs to learn to not ask questions: The doctor or CTF?
Overshare: The doctor. He said I'm really well groomed down there. Maybe the cleanest he's ever seen.
Anonymous: Uh...
Overshare: So I told him all about my waxer. I swear, she's my best friend. She's SO thorough.
Anonymous: Er...
Overshare: Seriously. There's nary a hair down there! Want her number?

The epitome of class and sophistication, folks.

Introducing Tyrannical Sorority Sister

2006-05-02T11:55:00.000-07:00

Finally. I have been wracking my brains for weeks attempting to come up with that nickname. They usually come so easily, but this one was giving me fits. [Huge sigh of relief.]

On to the story.

It has come to my attention that I have neglected a certain aspect of Overshare’s life here in this crazy overshare world. For this oversight, I apologize, dear readers. Allow me to remedy that immediately.

You see, Overshare has a direct supervisor: Tyrannical Sorority Sister, or TSS for short.

My company doesn’t exactly have the most, how shall we say… efficient hiring processes. (Witty Comeback: Understatement, much?) It turns out that both TSS’s position and Overshare’s were empty at the same time… and instead of using some common sense HR decided to go ahead and hire Overshare, without a supervisor in place. They obviously did not anticipate the difficulty they had in hiring someone. It turned out that Overshare was in her position, without a direct supervisor, for a good six months before TSS was hired. And in that time, management had regulated a lot of TSS’s future duties to Overshare.

This, of course, led to the unfortunate and awkward situation of Overshare having to train her own supervisor. Unfortunate and awkward enough in any case, but when you have Overshare teaching anything… mixed with the fact that TSS turned out to the be the kind of employee that you pray every day will quit… let’s just say it led to some hilarity in its own right.

Now, to answer some questions I’m sure you have.

1. TSS is, in fact, a sorority sister. To this day. As in, she’s treasurer.
2. TSS is not, in fact, in college.
3. TSS is an older woman, with several adult children.
4. TSS lives in a separate city from the one in which our office resides. Her commute tops an hour each way.
5. TSS has never held a management position before.

You’ll see why she earned the “T” in her name in the next few entries. And just to round out this post, I’ll tell of the conversation TSS and I had that first led me to believe that something may be off. Keep in mind that she had been working in my office for a grand total of one week at this point.

Tyrannical Sorority Sister, waving a catalog at me: Buy some candles.
Anonymous Coworker: Candles?
TSS: Buy some candles.
Anonymous: Why are you selling candles?
TSS: For my sorority. Buy some.
Anonymous: Well, I don’t know.
TSS: It’s for a good cause.
Anonymous: Your sorority?
TSS: Yeah. We’re having our conference in Orlando this year.
Anonymous: And the candles…
TSS: Go towards our plane tickets.
Anonymous: Ah…
TSS: Buy some.
Anonymous: Well, it's just that I'm already committed to supporting several charities...
TSS: What, you have a problem with me or something? Buy. Some. Candles.

The Bathroom

2006-04-28T09:35:00.000-07:00

I know that a lot of you saw the title and said "Oh, uh-uh."

You're not sure you want to read this, are you? Well, at least you have the choice.

I'm sure it happens to everyone eventually-- the awkward same-time arrival at the door of the office bathroom. In our office, the bathroom is in such a place that you can't pretend you were going elsewhere; it's all by its lonesome down a long hallway. If you meet someone at the door, you both know why you're there.

Yesterday, I met Overshare there. I seriously contemplated saying something along the lines of, "You know what? The urge is gone. Just gone! Funny how that happens... see you later."

But I had just finished my third water bottle of the day. There was no choice. Oh dear.

So we have the obligatory, awkward, "After you; No, after you" moment, which finally ended up with me following her in. Like a lamb to the slaughter, folks.

Overshare, from inside her stall: Anonymous?
Anonymous, whispering to herself: This can't be happening.
Anonymous, to Overshare: Uhh... yes?
Overshare: Ummmm... can I ask you a personal question?
Anonymous: Now?
Overshare: Yeah.
Anonymous: [Silence.]
Overshare: Does...uh....well...

Now see, I've noticed something about ol' Overshare. She, in general, has next to no shame. And no mental filter. No shame + no mental filter = No hesitation. So when Overshare does hesitate to say something? It's never good. Whatever she's about to say, she knows it might be crossing the line, which means it's actually about five miles past the line. Fantastic.

Anonymous, to herself: Oh dear God.
Overshare: The day after you have sex, does the consistency of your poop change?
Anonymous: [Silence.]
Overshare: [Silence.]
Anonymous: [Flush.]
Overshare: [Silence. Flush.]
Anonymous: [Washes hands in silence.]
Overshare: [Washes hands. Looks over at me.]
Anonymous: [Dries hands in silence.]
Overshare: Uh.....
Anonymous: [Shakes head.]
Overshare, sheepishly: Sorry?

She sure likes to talk consistency, doesn't she?

Party Themes

2006-04-26T07:15:00.000-07:00

Some of my favorite Overshare moments are sneak attacks. Sometimes you hear her coming down the hall and have a moment to prepare yourself (or develop a “sudden urge” to go to the bathroom.) But those times when she just whips into your office without warning? Priceless.

Overshare: Save the date.
Anonymous: Huh?
Overshare: Save. The Date.
Anonymous: What date?
Overshare: My birthday.
Anonymous: Oh. When is that again?
Overshare: One month from today.
Anonymous: Right. What are you planning?
Overshare: A party, duh.
Anonymous, irritated at the “duh”: Hmph.
Overshare: Hey, give me your opinion.
Anonymous: On?
Overshare: On what kind of party I should have, duuuhhhh.
Anonymous: [grits teeth]
Overshare: So far, the options are a toga party, a Dukes of Hazzard theme, pirates, or… something better.
Anonymous: Something better?
Overshare, pensively: Yeah… I just can’t help but feel like there’s a really awesome theme that I’m just not thinking of.
Anonymous: Of course.

[Silence. Complete silence for about five minutes. It was painfully awkward… I couldn’t really start working, because she was kind of looking at me, but not. She didn’t leave, and she didn’t really say anything else, until…]

Overshare: Mmmmm… CTF in a hula skirt.

My mind’s eye sure gets a lot of abuse at the hands of this girl.

Sibling Rivalry

2006-04-24T07:44:00.000-07:00

Overshare: How was your weekend?

I'd just like to point out to everyone, in case you haven't noticed, that Overshare is very rarely actually interested in how my weekend went. Asking about my weekend is only her way of getting me to ask about her weekend. And if I ask, she can't very well refuse to tell me, can she? Tricky, very tricky. I don't want to know these things. I'm perfectly content with never knowing any details of her weekend adventures (though this blog would be rather boring indeed) but office environments being what they are these conversations are unavoidable.

Anonymous: Fine. You?
Overshare: CTF and I went to the beach.
Anonymous: Fascinating.
Overshare: Well, you see, my sister and her husband wanted me to come up to the beach house while they were there, to spend some time with them.
Anonymous: That's nice.
Overshare: They asked me not to bring CTF.
Anonymous: So why did you?
Overshare: Because! Like I really want to feel like the third wheel to my sister. She'd just lord it over me that she was having sex that weekend and I wasn't. She'd be really loud at night, just to rub it in.

Maybe this is just me, and maybe my siblings are all a bunch of prudes, but I can safely say that I've only had one or two conversations about sex with my siblings and even then it was in very nebulous terms. They are almost all married, and I have no need, whatsoever, to know any details of their sex life. Call me crazy.

Anonymous: Hmm.
Overshare: No way in hell I'm letting that happen, right? [chuckles]
Anonymous: [smiles wanly, starts to type up a fake email in order to look busy]
Overshare, sitting down: So I mentioned to CTF that that is what she would do, so he said as a joke, "Well, you should take me anyway and we can just make sure we're louder than them all weekend."
Anonymous: [silent, praying this will be over soon]
Overshare: So that's what we did. Every time we heard her and her husband starting up, we'd go at it. Yelling, screaming, anything we could think of.
Anonymous: Er...
Overshare: It actually turned out to be a great way to spice up our sex life! I highly recommend it.
Anonymous: Er...
Overshare: My sister actually said to me before we drove away that I should never let a man who makes me scream like that go. I'm so glad she approves! Maybe she could convince my mom...

Financial Woes

2006-04-19T15:50:00.000-07:00

Overshare: So, did I tell you that I need to make more money?
Anonymous: No…

Now, I realize that some people are completely fine with discussing their salaries with just about anyone, and they don’t see anything wrong with that. I am not one of those people. Especially in a workplace, since you always run the risk of talking about how little money you make to someone who makes $5k less than you.

Overshare: Well, I do. And I decided how I’m going to do it.
Anonymous: How?
Overshare: I’m getting a second job.

I know what you’re thinking… so what’s the big deal, Anonymous? Lots of people get second jobs to make ends meet. Lots of people talk about how much money they make, even if you don’t like it. Why is this blog worthy?

Overshare: I’m going to be a bartender at Skank Bar.

That’s why.

Anonymous: I think that may be a bad idea…
Overshare: No, no… just hear me out.
Anonymous: Er…..
Overshare, counting on her fingers: 1. I’d get to see CTF every night.
Anonymous, muttering under her breath: Exactly.
Overshare: 2. I could make sure that Swedish Nanny leaves CTF alone. 3. Bartenders make SO much money. 4. It combines my two favorite activities: watching CTF and drinking!
Anonymous: Well, you’re not allowed to drink while you’re bartending.
Overshare: Oh, the manager at Skank Bar doesn’t care.
Anonymous: Riiiighhtt…
Overshare: I wonder when I can start.
Anonymous: Don’t you have to go to school to be bartender?
Overshare: Do you?
Anonymous: I’m pretty sure you do. You have to learn what goes into certain shots, etc.
Overshare: Shit.
Anonymous: Yeah. Too bad.
Overshare: How long are the programs?
Anonymous: Well, I've never really looked into it, but I think it's generally at least a year.
Overshare: Double shit.
[Awkward silence.]
Overshare: Maybe I convince them to let me do it based on my amateur experiences alone.
Anonymous, sarcastically: Yeah, that might work.
Overshare: You think?

Read At Your Own Risk

2006-04-17T10:45:00.000-07:00

I’ve been delaying writing this one because… well… it was a rather traumatic overshare for me. This, dear readers, is the TMI story that was the catalyst to this blog.

There came a time in the past year when almost all of Overshare’s victims here at work were all out of town, all attending the same conference together. There was just little old me, a few of our accountants, Overshare, and some IT guys still around.

How did Overshare handle it? By telling the overshare to end all overshares, obviously, to the only person available. She came into my office and shut the door.

Overshare: I am so mad at CTF that I can barely speak.
Anonymous, doubting that: What happened?
Overshare: We had a date last night, and things were fantastic. We went to dinner at Swanky New Restaurant and then we ended up at one of those little county fairs… rode the Ferris wheel, he won me a prize. It was like a fairytale.
Anonymous, who’s never heard a fairy tale involving a pedophilic bouncer: Didn’t it end well?
Overshare: Well, we’re lying in his bed, enjoying the afterglow, when he decides he wants to play the Ratings Game.

It just doesn’t sound good, does it? Not even knowing what it is exactly, the very name of the game doesn’t sound like an enjoyable “afterglow” activity. But hey, maybe that’s just me.

Anonymous: Ratings Game? What’s that?
Overshare: You know, the game where you can ask your partner to rate anything about you on a scale of 1 to 10 and they have to be 100% honest.

Yep, just like I thought. Not a fun game.

Anonymous: That just sounds like a bad idea.
Overshare: Usually, it’s really fun.
Anonymous: Really?
Overshare: Really. Anyway, so we start off and at first, CTF does really well. I ask him to rate my looks; he says I’m a ten.

At this point in the story, She Who Haikus usually busts in with a “So, obviously we know CTF’s rating system is broken.”

Overshare: I gave him an 8 for looks. Then I ask about personality; he gives me another 10. So far, so good, right?
Anonymous: Uhhhh… Sure.
Overshare: So instead of asking for his personality rating back [she says this like it’s supposed to be a given] he asks me to rate his sexual performance.

It is at this point that I realize I’m about to hear something I can’t unhear. This is going to be life altering, and the freight train is coming. There’s no way to stop her—I can’t send an emergency email to Witty Comeback, there is no hope of my boss walking in, there are no meetings I can make up. Everyone is gone. We’re going there whether I like it or not. I do the only thing I can do: I stop responding. It doesn’t help.

Anonymous: [silence]
Overshare: So I give him a nine—I say it’s a solid nine and that the only thing that takes the one point away is that we haven’t orgasmed together yet.
Anonymous: [silence]
Overshare: So, I ask him to rate my performance. You know what the Asshat said?
Anonymous: [silence]
Overshare: He had the nerve to say a seven! A seven!! And then, without me even asking, he rates my blowjob performance a six!! Can you believe that?
Anonymous: [silence, feigns interest in a pencil on desk]
Overshare: So I got mad, and told him more than one guy has complimented me on my bj technique. You know what he said? You know what he said??
Anonymous: [silence]
Overshare: He said, and I quote: “Well, I guess I’ve just had better.”
Anonymous: [chokes]
Overshare: Here, let me see that pencil…

I kid you not, folks. She grabbed the pencil from my desk. I almost started to cry. She began to demonstrate her technique on the pencil. I shall spare you the sordid details, but let’s just say that Anonymous Coworker received a very detailed explanation of hand placement and tongue use, among other things.

Overshare, not sorry at all: Wow. Sorry I unloaded like that. I just can’t believe he said six! I think that deserves WAAY more than a six!!
Anonymous: [silence]
Overshare: Well… I’ve taken up most of your morning. Wanna have lunch?

When my coworkers came back the next week, I made them all buy me a drink at the next happy hour, for taking that one for the team. I still have nightmares, most featuring her reaching out, in slow motion... Here...let me see that pencil.

[Shudders]

Toolshed + Bluegrass= Crappy Band

2006-04-12T08:30:00.000-07:00

Toolshed is in a band. I know this because he tells us all the time. Overshare is his band's #1 fan/groupie. She's always trying to get all of Toolshed's coworkers to go out to the seedy bar that his band plays at all the time.

I could handle all of this with a polite "I'm busy" in most circumstances. I mean, really... in the light of how crazy my coworkers can be (Climbing into computer boxes? Dating pedophiles? Foodgasms?) one of them being in a Crappy Band isn't that big of a deal. Should be like water on a duck's back. Except for the Freaking List Serve.

Yep, I said it. List Serve.

Now, I understand the need for a device to notify your entire fan base of your Crappy Band's appearances. I'm not ignorant of the fact that it's a very effective way of communicating for bands that people wouldn't normally search out to see as one would, say, U2. But it's always been my understanding that a list serve should be a voluntary thing. Like "Hey, I'm in a bar and Crappy Band is playing and for some reason I don't mind them too much. Maybe I'll join their list serve so I can know when and where they're playing next."

I never signed up for Toolshed's Crappy Band's list serve. No. I'm there merely because I'm his coworker. And there is NO UNSUBSCRIBE FEATURE. Once or twice a week a freaking Tooly McToolerson email shows up in my work email, always badly written, to tell me to come out and see Toolshed in all his Tooly Glory.

The straw that broke the camel's back came today. I'm posting the email beause I just. Can't. Take it. Anymore.

Some of you may notice the religious undertones. Compliments Oh-My-God-I-Loved-It's religion conversation so well, wouldn't you say?

Here's the email, edited slightly so as not to give away the location or the band.

If that doesn't hold sway and you need another reason to head out, consider this: Tax Day. Either you are getting a refund and need something to spend it on (how about a band, great food, cheap drinks, and a cab ride home?) or you have to pay THE MAN and are hankering for some throw-down, slack-jaw, out-house blues to cure what ails ya'!

Still not convinced? OK, how about you're a Christian and need to get some good sinning in before you are forgiven on Sunday morning at Easter Mass -- or better yet, if you have as good a time as you always do you'll likely end up close to dead (from sheer joy, or alcohol poisoning) -- and you can get resurrected with the rest of the world by eating hard-boiled eggs, chocolate bunnies, and marshmallow peeps (hard or soft? you decide).

Last try for the Jews among us: You need a reason to escape the madness of your Matzo-castle and make an Exodus to celebrate your freedom at [the Crappy Bar] (ouch, sorry, that's a tough pun).

Whatever the reason, you won't be disappointed in your decision to attend. See you Saturday!

I couldn't make this crap up if I tried.

With Friends Like Overshare...

2006-04-05T10:16:00.000-07:00

Before we get to today’s Overshare, I just wanted to talk about how much I appreciate all of you readers. One of my main joys is seeing how some people get here. Did you know that if you Google “leather miniskirt Halloween wig”, you get this blog? And my all time favorite search term to lead here? “Baptist Boobs.” Five dollars says they were disappointed. So thank you my faithful readers. You’ve helped bring laughter to someone who was obviously looking for religious porn.

On to the Overshare!

Anonymous: So, are CTF and Swedish Nanny still dating?
Overshare, sullenly: Yes.
Anonymous: Oh. I’m sorry to hear that?
Overshare: It’s ok. Actually, I had a long talk with her the other night.
Anonyous: Is this before or after you called the police on her for harassing you?
Overshare: After. And the police said I didn’t have much of a case.
Anonymous: Oh, that’s too bad.
Overshare: So anyway, I was at Skank Bar a few days ago and so was Swedish Nanny. So pathetic. She was just sitting there, waiting for him to get off work.

I’d just like to interject here that while most of them were not blog-worthy, I do remember several Overshare/CTF stories that started out with “So, I was just sitting at Skank Bar, waiting for CTF to get off work…” But obviously, it’s a different thing entirely if it’s Overshare doing it instead of Swedish Nanny.

Anonymous: Ok…
Overshare: Well, CTF was outside working the door, and Swedish Nanny was sitting inside at the bar. I decided to go talk to her about not calling my phone for CTF anymore.
Anonymous: How did that go over?
Overshare: Well, it really freaked CTF out. He walked inside to get a drink while we were sitting together and he kept calling my phone but I wouldn’t pick up.
Anonymous: He kept calling your phone?
Overshare: Yeah, he saw us sitting together, talking… so he took his ten-minute break and went into the manager’s office to use the phone. He was trying to get me to leave. He left me like four frantic messages. "Overshare, I know what you're doing! Just stop it!"
Anonymous: Yeah, I'm sure he hated that. What were you and Swedish Nanny talking about?
Overshare: Well, it started out the way our phone conversations usually do. She loves him, will talk to him whenever she wants, blah blah blah. But then she started talking about how she can’t lose CTF because he’s her only friend and she’s from Sweden and all of her family is there. And I felt kinda bad.
Anonymous: Felt bad for still seeing CTF when he's dating Swedish Nanny or felt bad because she doesn’t have any friends?
Overshare: Because she doesn’t have any friends.
Anonymous: Ok…
Overshare: So I told her that we could be friends.
Anonymous: [chokes]
Overshare: So we’re going to start hanging out without CTF.
Anonymous: That should be interesting.
Overshare: It felt so nice to actually do something for someone else. She was so happy she went home without CTF. We’re supposed to hang out this week.
Anonymous: Did you go home then too?
Overshare: Oh, no. I waited for CTF and then we went back to my place. The sex was so amazing!
Anonymous, sarcastically: How nice of you.
Overshare, obliviously: Yeah. I’m going to go check what movies are playing in case she wants to see one.

Confrontations

2006-03-31T07:59:00.000-08:00

I’m often asked why someone doesn’t say something to Overshare about her oversharing. To say my boss takes a laissez-faire attitude to these things would be an understatement. I’d even go so far as to say he realizes what kind of work environment this creates, but would rather avoid any kind of awkward confrontation, the kind that would be required to fix the situation.

But that’s not to say that she hasn’t been confronted before.

Enter Candid Temp.

Candid Temp was brought in when Witty Comeback was promoted, to cover her old position while we began the hiring process. Witty was moved into a new part of the office, and Candid Temp was given her old space in a cubicle directly connected to Overshare’s.

Candid Temp had a rather typical story for a temp—he had his Master’s Degree in conflict resolution, and was putting his resume out, but had recently moved to the area and needed a job to cover the rent until he got a more permanent gig in his field of study. Candid Temp, being a man, quickly became Overshare’s new favorite person to overshare to. He got the Quick and Dirty Update—two days into his assignment and he could tell Overshare stories with the best of us.

It just so happens (prepare yourselves for a shock here…) that at the time that Candid Temp was working for us, Overshare and CTF were going through a rough patch. There were a lot of phone calls going back and forth between them, and more than once a call ended in a shouting match, a phone slamming down, and tears and sobbing from Overshare.

It also happens that Overshare was going through a rough time with her family, because they had all talked with Overshare about CTF and how it might not be such a good idea to date a pedophile bouncer. She was fighting with them about that. (Exactly how one justifies to their mother the very idea of dating such a man, I have no idea.)

One day, I had a project for Candid Temp so I went over to his cubicle to discuss it. Overshare was in the middle of a phone conversation with CTF, and it was escalating.

Overshare: CTF! I don’t care WHAT you do this weekend. I don’t care.
CTF says something.
Overshare: I said I’d don’t care! F*** her if you want to!!
CTF says something.
Overshare: I said F*** her if you want to!!

At this point, I look over to Candid Temp, who rolls his eyes at me. I’m expecting him to handle this as we all do in the office. But oh no, my friends. Candid Temp, being a temp and therefore not having to care about preserving office relationships, doesn’t avert his eyes, doesn’t quietly pretend as if nothing is going on. No. He is much too candid for that.

Candid Temp, pumping his fist for emphasis: Jer-ry! Jer-ry! Jer-ry!

Yes, my blog friends. Candid Temp finally said to Overshare what everyone who works with her thinks. She would be a perfect guest on The Jerry Springer Show.

Overshare: [silence]
Candid Temp, in a pretty good Jerry Springer impression: And on today’s show, we have men who love young girls and the women who love them anyway… should be a fascinating show.
Overshare, to CTF on the phone: What? Oh, it’s nothing. It’s another conversation happening in the office. I have to go. [Hangs up]
Overshare, to Candid Temp: What the HELL is that supposed to mean?
Candid Temp: I would think it was obvious.
Overshare, angry: Why don’t you explain it anyway?
Candid Temp: I was just giving you what I thought you wanted: an audience.

Toolshed's Wife

2006-03-28T12:02:00.000-08:00

I have a hard time feeling sorry for anyone when they have married a complete tool. When you marry Toolshed... let's just say you had it coming.

It appears that Toolshed's Wife may be a tiny bit concerned that Toolshed is rather flirtatious and works with a lot of women, if some overheard phone conversations are any indication.

And I'm sure Toolshed being after all, a TOOL, goes home to Toolshed's Wife and tells her stories all about his favorite coworker, Overshare. And I think we all know that telling your possibly paranoid wife who is already concerned about your actions at work the story of, say, swapping shoes with a certain coworker, or of said coworker having ultra-sensitive nipples... well, I think we can all imagine that Toolshed's Wife is going to be predisposed to disliking Overshare.

We got to find out for sure when Overshare met Toolshed's Wife at a work social event. Things didn't go so well.

Anonymous: How did the social event go?
Overshare: Oh, it was great! They had an open bar, which I of course utilized to it's fullest extent.
Anonymous: Sounds great.
Overshare: Oh, it was fabulous. That is, until I met Toolshed's Wife.
Anonymous: Uhoh.
Overshare: What a bitch!
Anonymous: What did she do?
Overshare: She refused to speak.
Anonymous: What?
Overshare: She wouldn't answer any of my questions. You know, I was just trying to be nice-- asking her where she went to college, how that problem with her parents worked out...
Anonymous: Problem with her parents?
Overshare: Didn't Toolshed tell you?
Anonymous: Why would Toolshed tell me about a problem his wife was having with her parents?
Overshare: Why wouldn't he? He told me.
Anonymous: Well, some people might think it was inappropriate... you know what? Never mind.
Overshare: Anyway. When I brought up the parent problem, she just grabbed Toolshed's arm and walked away. How rude is that? She wouldn't even let me hug him goodbye!
Anonymous, sarcastically: The nerve of some people.
Overshare: Yeah, I told Toolshed he's not allowed to bring her to work functions anymore.

Stalking

2006-03-24T11:32:00.000-08:00

Overshare: I'm calling the police.
Anonymous, worried: Right now? What happened?

Sidenote: I know, people, that by now, I really, really, really should not jump to logical conclusions anymore when it comes to Overshare. I should automatically jump to the least likely event and work from there when she makes outlandish statements, but for some reason I don't. Case in point: in this instance, I wondered if she had been attacked in the parking lot, or had her purse stolen, or her car broken into. Why haven't I learned?

Overshare: Swedish Nanny is stalking me.
Anonymous, groaning: Of course she is. What happened?
Overshare: I was hanging out with CTF last night, and she kept calling me.
Anonymous: Did she need to talk to CTF?
Overshare, annoyed: Of course she did.
Anonymous, annoyed that Overshare's annoyed with me: Well, why didn't you hand the phone to him?
Overshare: Because. It's the principle of the matter.
Anonymous: The principle of a girl needing to speak to her boyfriend, who is spending time alone with another woman and so using the phone number the boyfriend gave her to use?
Overshare: Yes.
Anonymous: Interesting.
Overshare: So I just hung up. And she kept calling, and calling, and calling. So finally I picked up, told her to stop calling. Do you know what she had the nerve to say to me?
Anonymous: I'm just dying to know.
Overshare, using a very, very weird accent, which I guess was supposed to be Swedish: "CTF and I are in love. LOVE, do you hear me? I will speak to him whenever I wish." Can you even believe her nerve?
Anonymous: What was CTF doing during all of this?
Overshare: Laughing.
Anonymous: Who was he laughing at?
Overshare: Oh, he said he wasn't laughing at either of us, just at you know, the whole situation.
Anonymous: You mean the whole situation that he created?
Overshare: Well, I guess if you want to look at it that way.
Anonymous: I would.
Overshare: Whatever. Anyway, so I got so frustrated last night that I looked up the law on harassment, and she's totally harassing me. So I'm calling the police.
Anonymous: Right now? Why didn't you call last night?
Overshare: Well, I knew work today was going to be slow, so I just figured I'd wait.

Halloween

2006-03-20T11:19:00.000-08:00

Overshare: I changed my Halloween costume.
Anonymous: I don't think I heard what the original one was going to be.
Overshare: Oh, well, originally I was going to be a cat. I had this black leather mini-skirt with a matching bustier and ears.
Anonymous, thankful that she changed her mind: And now?
Overshare: I'm going to be a Swedish Nanny.

Yes, you read that correctly. A SWEDISH. NANNY.

Anonymous, trying not to laugh hysterically: And what, pray tell, does a Swedish Nanny costume look like?
Overshare: I've got a blonde wig, some wooden clogs, a short skirt... and the best part of all?
Anonymous, truly dying to know: Yes?
Overshare: I'm wearing a Baby Bjorn, with a doll in it.

Yep, you read that correctly too.

After all, what Swedish Nanny costume would be complete with out one of these?

Anonymous: Surely you're not going trick-or-treating...
Overshare: Oh no. I'm going on a bar crawl.
Anonymous: Of course.
Overshare: And you want to know the best part? The bar crawl ends at Skank Bar.
Anonymous: Won't CTF be working?
Overshare: Sure will. And Swedish Nanny will be there too.
Anonymous: Of course.
Overshare: I can't wait to see the look on their faces.

I'm not sure Skank Bar is big enough for two Swedish Nannies.

American Idol

2006-03-15T18:20:00.000-08:00

I know what you're thinking: jigga what? When did she decide to change the focus of her blog? Will she now be discussing who the Top Six will be and why America seems to love 16-year-olds with lisps? (For the record, my money is on Taylor, Chris, Elliot, Paris, Lisa and Katherine. And I have no answer for the Kevin Covais phenomenon.)

No, no my friends. In a very rare occurrence, Overshare and I have a mutual interest. Of course, there's a normal level of interest in a reality tv series and then there's Overshare.

You see, Overshare loves Taylor Hicks. This Taylor Hicks. (Please, please watch the clip. It makes me laugh so much.)

I like him. A lot. Hell, I'm not ashamed to admit I even voted for him several times. But Overshare? She loves him.

She's on a mission from God.

She will meet Taylor. That's what she just told me a few minutes ago. Right after she asked me if I thought they'd be a good couple. (Which really made me want to ask "Well, do you want to play MASH and find out?" A good couple?? What the Fork? Are we 13?)

She filled me in on the plans-- she's going to find where he lives and stalk him. Seems pretty straight-forward, if you ask me. I was hoping for something including sky-writing, large cakes from which Overshare would jump out to surprise him, and (one can only hope) a large, large bouquet of carnations, Michael-Jackson-style.

It's times like this that I wish I could post a picture of Overshare, because it doubles, nay triples, the comedic value of this post to be able to imagine them together. You'll just have to content yourself with envisioning their children: five year old, gray-haired kids running around twitching, "whoo!"-ing, and telling their neighborhood friends waaay too much personal information.

Swedish Nanny, Part II

2006-03-14T10:44:00.000-08:00

Overshare: He lied. Again.
Anonymous: I can’t say I’m surprised.
Overshare: He’s dating Swedish Nanny.
Anonymous: Really?
Overshare: Yep.
Anonymous: How do you know?
Overshare: We went to the beach this weekend, and she kept calling my cell phone.
Anonymous: Why did she call your cell phone?
Overshare: Because CTF doesn’t have one.
Anonymous: So he gave her your number to reach him, while he was at the beach with you?
Overshare: Yep.
Anonymous: And you’re ok with that?
Overshare: No, but how else was she supposed to reach him?
Anonymous, wanting to slam her head against her desk: Why did he even go if he’s dating someone else?
Overshare: Because he loves me.
Anonymous: He loves you?
Overshare: That’s what he says.
Anonymous: Then why date someone else?
Overshare: She convinced him to.
Anonymous: She convinced him to? I’m sorry, but is he not a 34-year-old man? How in the world does he get convinced to date someone when he loves someone else?
Overshare: He just feels bad for her. She’s Swedish and hates her job and has no friends… and he’s such a nice guy… he just had to.
Anonymous: That’s crap, and I think you know it.
Overshare: I just think it’s so sad… because the sex is so good. It was just like old times this weekend. It’s there between us. I can’t believe she had to come along and mess it all up.
Anonymous: Does she know you used to date CTF?
Overshare: No.
Anonymous: So who did she think he went to the beach with?
Overshare: His brother’s girlfriend.
Anonymous: Does CTF even have a brother?
Overshare: No.
Anonymous: Wow. Can you even imagine the lies she’s hearing?

Education vs. Common Sense

2006-03-10T14:40:00.000-08:00

My last post caused a lot of talk about Overshare’s education, so I thought I’d try to give you a more accurate picture of her.

I’ve said before that she’s a well-educated woman. Her undergraduate degree is from a top-ten ranked college in New York State, according to US News. She then went south, where she received her Masters from a Top 50 school. (I will say that her grad school is known for their football team.) Unfortunately, the exact nature of her degree would give away too much information about the kind of organization/company/institute I work for.

She isn’t from a broken home. Her parents have been married for more than a quarter century and seem to be rather normal, well-adjusted people. They do have two wackadoodle daughters though. I remember the time that Overshare’s Sister called to ask Overshare why she hadn’t bought her a birthday present and told her that she now expected something quite expensive since she was late, and preferably the gift would come from Coach. I haven’t been in a shouting match like that with my sister since she was 14 and I was 10, and I think we were arguing over me using her makeup. The fact that the fight took place over the phone at her workplace… oh my damn, the drama.

I just wanted to point out that this is what makes Overshare particularly perplexing. She's not just your standard irritating coworker. Not only is she well educated, and from a somewhat normal family, she’s also extremely good at her job. And I mean extremely good. She brings a level of organization to her position that was very much needed and has made a difference for the better. Why that organization, rational thinking, and common sense has never made it into her personal life remains a mystery. It's like someone turns off the logic switch whenever she starts to talk about anything other than work.

I think this little interlude showcases the crazy the best:

Overshare, walking into my office: Oh man.
Anonymous: What now?
Overshare: Nothing big… it’s just been such a long time since I came to work drunk, that’s all.
Anonymous: You’re drunk?
Overshare: Just a little. I’ll be fine in about an hour. Usually I’m just hung-over when I come in after a night of drinking. Guess I went a little overboard at Skank Bar last night.
Anonymous: Guess so.

Also, I've updated the Cast of Characters, if you ever want to refer back to keep people straight. I'll continue to update it as I add new characters. And if you ever feel like emailing me a question or comment, you can reach me at coworker.anonymous@gmail.com. That's it for now! The stories will return in the beginning of next week.

Wyoming

2006-03-08T08:21:00.000-08:00

Eventually, the roommate situation got to be too much for Overshare, what with them complaining that CTF was over too much, and CTF hitting on the ugly one and all. So she decided to move out.

There was a scary month or two where she was actually considering moving in with CTF, including a horrific two-week period where she was visiting several potential apartments with him. All of us at the office tried to convince her that this was the Bad Idea to End All Bad Ideas, but shockingly enough, she didn’t listen to us. There’s nothing like moving in with your wannabe-Michael-Jackson felon ex-boyfriend to create an awkward situation, but whatever.

Thankfully, a better circumstance arose and the CTF/Overshare apartment never happened. But it does mean that a new character needs to be introduced into the saga.

I am pleased to introduce Overshare’s new roommate, Wyoming.

Wyoming, as you might have guessed, is from Wyoming. She’ll tell you. Over and over again. Her home state makes it into virtually every conversation she has.

Anyway, not only is Wyoming Overshare’s new roommate, oh no. That wouldn’t be blog-worthy. No, Wyoming is also a new coworker of mine. She and Overshare went to the same graduate school together, so when an opening came up in a different department in our company, she sent it on to Wyoming and encouraged her to apply.

The hiring process alone was a thing to behold—Overshare badgered our HR department every single day about whether or not they were going to hire her. A friend of ours is the person who was in charge of interviewing for the position and happens to sit very close to me. Every day, Overshare would stop by and ask how everything was going, despite being told repeatedly by HR and said friend that what she was doing bordered on the illegal. (Like she cared.) I ended up having many conversations with said friend, who almost lamented that Wyoming appeared to be the best fit for the job simply because he wasn’t sure how the Overshare factor was going to affect the workplace. But eventually, Wyoming was hired, and it turns out that she’s very good in the position.

But she’s weird.

Make that Weird, with a capital W.

For example:

A few weeks after she was hired and settled into her new job, Wyoming received a new computer. Her office is directly off of our reception area, so while IT was installing the new computer, there were some large boxes in the reception area that had once held the new monitor and CPU, etc. As all of us who have ever had computers replaced at work know, you’re basically useless while this process happens. Normal people stand around, chitchat with the IT guy (if he’s not too socially challenged), go to the bathroom, hang out with a friend, go to lunch, something. But, like I said, Wyoming is Weird.

So how does Wyoming handle the down time?

She climbs in one of the computer boxes, of course.

You read that right. Wyoming, a fully-grown mid-twenties woman in business casual, climbs into the discarded computer box and shuts the lid in order to wait out the computer change-over.

Not only that, but she calls out to the office to come and look.

Wyoming, voice muffled by box: Hey, hey! Receptionist! Go get Overshare!!
Receptionist: Why?
Wyoming: Isn’t it obvious?
Receptionist: Not really, no.
Wyoming: Cause I’m a girl in a box! A girl! In a box!
Receptionist: Ooooookkaaaaayyy…

(calls Overshare to come to the front)

Overshare: Hey, Receptionist. What’s up?
Wyoming, gleefully: Overshare! I’m a girl in a box!

Like I said, she’s Weird, that Wyoming-In-A-Box.

When The Cat's Away...

2006-03-02T09:30:00.000-08:00

After the parking-lot-sex breakup, you may be shocked to learn that things between Overshare and CTF didn't really change that much. Along with every other unfortunate soul in my office, I was still regaled with stories of The Felon and his numerous "qualities" for several weeks. And then one Monday morning, Overshare started receiving flowers.

Lots of them.

Anonymous: What's with all the flowers?
Overshare: The Asshat is trying to say he's sorry.
Anonymous: With carnations?
Overshare: Yep. Asshat.
Anonymous: What did he do now?
Overshare, obviously gearing up for a great story: You know how I was out of town this weekend, visiting my parents?
Anonymous: Yeah...
Overshare: Well, my roommate-- the ugly one? Remember her?-- went out dancing Saturday night, at Skank Bar.
Anonymous: Uhoh.
Overshare: And apparently, CTF didn't have to work like he said he did, which is the excuse he gave me for not coming home to meet my parents...
Anonymous: So he's sending flowers because he lied about being at work?
Overshare: Nope. He was at Skank Bar, drinking.
Anonymous: Uhoh.
Overshare: Not only was he drinking, but he hit on my roommate. The ugly one.
Anonymous: He did what?
Overshare: He hit on my ugly roommate. Was feeling her up and stuff and when she told him to stop because he was with me, he said "What Overshare doesn't know, won't hurt her... plus, I have needs."
Anonymous: Buh?
Overshare: Like I wouldn't have taken care of his needs at my parents' house!

At this point, I'm thinking: Please-- someone stab out my eye. And then it just got plain weird.

Overshare: Hence, the flowers... it's like he thinks he's Michael Jackson or something.

Later, I would devote much time to that last sentence, pondering its meaning. Never did come up with an answer.

Olympic Overshare

2006-02-27T18:04:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-23T16:55:00.000-08:00

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

2006-02-21T12:04:00.000-08:00

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.