....but I'm don't, and I'm not.
/rant
The guy I work with feels that it is necessary to bring his cologne into work. He leaves it here over night. He does this so that he remembers to spray himself with it. Unfortunately, he sprays himself in the office that we have to share. Now, I'm not against saying a guy smells good if I happen to walk up to a group of people and smell something nice, I might mention something. I am against smelling something that smells like old man. Other than my fear of growing old alone, my greatest fear is smelling like old man (ok, that's a lie). I really despise this guy. Every part of my being wants him to exist elsewhere. He is married...only God knows how, because I've heard the way he talks to her. He still hasn't learned to get up every morning and include spraying your cologne with taking a shower, putting on deodorant or any other mindless chores you do in your morning routine? I just don't understand how you could possibly think that spraying your cologne in an office you share (and complain about frequently) can be considered professional. Not only is it unprofessional, it's inhumane! One last word: Tool.
/endrant
I apologize for using this as a rant playground, but I have to get it out somewheres.
Perhaps there will be a cologne swapping caper in my future.
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1 comment:
I adore you!!! I can so relate to your story. I used to work with a lady that wore the most awful smelling parfume you can imagine. It smelled like phermaldihyde. Every morning when I got in the elevator I could tell that she had already been there minutes, if not hours earlier. How would you like to be reminded of 8th grade biology every morning?
To make thing worse she had the thickest southern accent. Not the endearing kind that is sweet and fun to listen to, the Kentucky kind that causes you to lose IQ points just for listening. Her name was Tambi and when she would be on the phone with someone she would say her name and then say," Like Bambi with a T".
I so wished it was deer season and poor little Bambi with a T would end up on a wall somewhere hung over a redneck's fireplace.
I feel, or should I say smell, your pain :(
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