Somewhere, somehow, we get in our heads, that a cubicle is like a private room. No one sees you pick your nose, adjust your bra, adjust your underwear, or worse yet, pass gas. Since there is a wall there, no one can see you. However, the walls are not sound proof.
I sit across from a person, whom I’m going to name D. D either does not believe in Beano, or is unaware that not only can flatulence be heard, but it can be smelled as well. No remorse, he just lets them out. Mostly, they come from the attic and not the basement, which, in some ways, is good, but should still be excused for the bats coming out of the attic, so to speak.
I worry about him lighting up outside, downwind.
I also, dealt with another perpetrator, whom, now is being one of the most respectful people around, was declared “Flavor of the Month” several times around. A blind man could smell him four blocks away, and know who this guy is. DW, I will call him. I came up to him one day and said “Isn’t it kind of wrong I can taste you in the air.” I stuck out my tongue. My food, IN solid containers, tasted funny. My Mountain Dew, tasted funny. “DW, you make my Mountain Dew taste funny,” brought a couple interesting looks from passer bys. One, what did he do to my Mountain Dew when I wasn’t looking. Two, since I’m nearing thirty, is this some sort of menopausal thing I should worry about?
After several attempts to come across to DW, he finally, subsided overworking the olfactory system.
Once again, he smokes, and I wonder if given the right wind direction, he wouldn’t go up in flames.
Then we have the person who has to do that funky, cheap, dept store body spray, EVERY time they use the bathroom. Its evident you went to the bathroom, because, I hear “PSht, psssht” sound, and then a wave of it coming in my direction. Never found out who this culprit was, I just knew more about their bathroom habits then their personality.
I hoped they don’t smoke.
Then you have my neighbor, CC, who is constantly grabbing the hand sanitizer, because, he read an article that the dirtiest place in the office, is the desk. Well, once again, he neglected to read further on two important things. One, if his desk is SHARED, it has more germs on it, and two, the hand sanitizer, it’s flammable.
The worst thing about it is, you guessed it, he smokes.
The other day, his hands were just a tad wrinkly from the over usage. One little spark and WOOSH, the poor explicative would go up in flames.
Aside from the hazards of smoking, I’m worried about the HAZARDS that ARE smoking. If D, DW, unknown frequent bathroom user, and CC all stood around outside, at the same time, and lit up, and it was down wind…well….that would be one big fireball.
It would be a forensic invistigator’s circus.
I’m just gratefull that all these people really don’t have anything to do with one another.
I keep my distance. Unfortunately, Mr Flatulence and Mr Hand Sanitizer, sit near me. One is across the wall, and the other, sits directly down wind from me.
Good thing they banned indoor smoking.
