Today, I'd like to talk a little bit about one of my bosses. We think he's crazy. At first glance - you would probably think, normal upstanding citizen with a little too much hair gel. But then, he might look at you, and his shoulders might start to hunch and he would move, no, leer very erratically and manacingly in your general direction, and then he might even lean in ever so slightly as he passes by you and in his deep raspy whispering voice utter with just a little too much force and absolutely no smile, "Hello There." And then a little chill might run down your spin and you'd walk briskly away thinking, "That guys a fucking WEIR-DO!" Yeah, that's one of my bosses. Luckily we don't have to speak to him much, or be in the same room with him, since most people begin to sweat, fidget or hyperventilate when he's around. My only run-in with the man went a little something like this.
Setting: Break room (There is a coffee maker and an expresso machine on different ends of the room)
Sarah: [preps coffee maker]
Friendly Office Psychopath (FOP): You prefer coffee . . . . to expresso . . . . [voice sounds distant yet ominously close]
Sarah: [turning head to face Mr.Fop] oh, um yeah.
FOP: Ah...I see . . .[looks contemplatively down at puke orange break room counter]
Sarah: Yep.
LONG SILENCE ENSUES
FOP: I used to be that way. A latte here. A mocha there. But I've moved on . . . to the hard stuff. [does not smile or make any facial expression whatsoever]
Sarah: Yeah, I'm not much for expresso. I'm kind of a sissy coffee drinker of sorts.
FOP: Ah. I see.
{Exit Sarah at a hastened pace}
We're all making bets here on what year he'll be incriminated for something foul.
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