Molasses, emphasis on the mole

Good morning, gentle readers. I'm back on this lovely Tuesday morning to continue the story that had been waiting patiently to be told for six or seven years. Yesterday, I wrote mainly about the annoying yet relatively harmless things that my former co-worker Doris used to do. After all, it's not entirely her fault that she was slow at walking, talking, and generally doing anything. Today though, I will illustrate that she maintained her ire-inducing nature in matters that were fully in her command.

First, one more petty annoyance: out of courtesy, when one of the four of us would go to the restroom, we'd tell the others so they'd know where we went. I had no problem saying, "I'll be back in a second" as I was heading out. Doris took a different approach though. She'd stand on the opposite site of the room and whisper one of our names until we heard her. Usually that would be about four or five times. When we'd register that the sound was her, we'd look up, only to have her start mouthing something. Keep in mind, it didn't matter if there was anyone else in the room, she just always did it this way. "What?" either Twilight or I would ask. She'd mouth the words again. "I can't hear you," I'd say in a tone that I generally don't use with people. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom," she'd whisper with accentuated enunciation. I know this sounds like a minor thing, but imagine that scene playing out a few times a day and you tell me how long before you'd snap. Twilight and I got through it by using our Doris voice to make euphemisms. "Twilight...Twilight," I'd whisper until she looked. "I'm gonna go drop some kids off at the pool." "Peter...Peter...I'm gonna go give birth to a brown baby boy." (I wonder what I did before "South Park" gave me so many useful phrases.)

Doris made some interesting choices in the workplace. First off, we had a common fridge and freezer that everyone in the office used. Most people brought that day's lunch or possibly a couple of frozen meals with their names on them. Doris though put the largest bag of shredded cheese I'd ever seen in the freezer. It was huge, and it stayed there taking up most of the freezer untouched for months. If she ate it regularly and it shrunk in size, that would've still been weird but ok with me. But she didn't, and the other 30 or so of us had to see it every time we opened the freezer door.

We also had a common table in the breakroom, and every once in a while, someone would bring something from home for anyone who wanted it. Often, this was an old printer or picture frame that we'd give each other a shot at before giving it to Goodwill. Doris didn't seem to understand this concept, because she brought...slightly different things in. It was strange but possibly reasonable to bring five old purses in and leave them on the table. I think it's a little out of line to bring half-used bottles of body lotion. I think it's totally out of line when they're from the Kama Sutra brand. Yes, used Kama Sutra lotion - free for anyone who wants it! Honestly, who in their right mind thinks that's ok?

As I spent more time around Doris, more stories started to come out that made her go from "annoying" to "a little crazy" in my book. (You should see this book of mine; most of you are in it somewhere.) Here's one that you'll enjoy. Somehow the topic of dermatology came up between Doris and someone else. Since our office area was somewhat small, everyone heard everyone else's conversation. I wish I could un-hear this one. "You see this mole on my face?" she asked. "I was thinking about having it removed. I used to have a pet bird, and he would sit on my shoulder and peck at it all the time." "Really?" the other person asked in a tone that I recognized as both fascinated and disgusted. "Mm hmm, he'd just sit right here and start pecking away like he thought it was a worm or something." If I hadn't been rendered speechless by that conversation, I probably would've yelled, "You've GOT to be fucking kidding me!" Maybe it's good that I was grossed out into silence.

As you might imagine, Twilight and I weren't the only ones who Doris annoyed in the office. As we soon found out, her antics had been going on like this for all of the years before we were there too. "You guys know about the cop in Chicago, right?" "No, who's that?" "Oh, this is a good one." It was a good one. Apparently, Doris read an article about a police officer in Chicago who did some nice and/or heroic deed. She thought he was incredibly handsome and sounded like an amazing person, so she flew to Chicago. Somehow, she got his home address and actually went and knocked on his door. It turned out that he had a wife, so she come back the next day. If I had been working there when that happened, you better believe I would've sneezed the word "stalker" around her on a daily basis.

The guy who told us the story went on: "You know that framed picture on her desk? That's him, from that magazine article." We always thought that was an ex-husband or other relative, but no, it was a framed picture on her desk of the stranger she stalked. Every once in a while, I'd hear a student say, "Oh, is that your husband?" Doris would reply in her normal, slow tone, "No, that is just a friend of mine," and Twilight and I would try to hold back our giggles.

Oh, I have some glorious news. I haven't even touched on the problems that Doris caused both me and Twilight as co-workers. I still have a few stories about her oddities and some rants about being her colleague, and I am gladly rolling those over to tomorrow. Another trilogy in the hizouse! Tune in tomorrow, my friends, as I conclude by complaining about the inimitable Doris. Have a great day, and good luck getting that image of a bird pecking at a mole out of your head.