Oh, And The Other People At Work Pissing Me Off

Sometimes when I see the weirdos who test score like me I feel like I'm right where I belong.  I am not necessarily feeling at home, but right where I belong.  Big difference.

And sometimes, I feel as if these fucking people are so weird, so rude, so unable to conform to social norms that I need to find other work.

I felt this way (beyond the abnormal fuckheads in my room, which I have detailed in detail in previous blog posts) from the first days I returned to this test scoring place almost eight weeks ago.  For some reason, people didn't mind their manners -- not opening the door for me, cutting in front of my path, stuff like that.

But the kicker was when I scooted off my chair and excused myself to go use the little boys' room.  I had to go #2, and I wanted as much privacy as possible, so I walked all the way to the far end of the building to use that men's room.  As customary so as not to be one of those jerks who check to see if a stall is occupied by just walking up and opening the door, as soon as I open the bathroom door I bend at my waist to see if I can see shoes underneath the stall door.  If I do, I swing my arms, say "Drat!" and leave.

I did not see that.  So, the coast was clear, right?  RIGHT?!?!?!

I open the door and see a fat man squirming on the toilet seat.  He's short ... short enough that his feet not only couldn't touch the floor, it didn't go lower than the bottom edge of the stall wall.

I know what you're thinking.  He said, "I should have locked the door."

You think?

You can't unsee that, folks.

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For that reason and so many others, I look forward to this interview I have next week and hope to Buddha that I get this job.  More on this later.