Too much information

I think someone slipped me some alli diet pills.

I’ll spare you the details.  As it appears half of the western world read my post about these pills there’s very little chance a reader of this doesn’t know what I was suggesting.  The short version of the story is I was in a meeting when my body, in its own special way, suggested to me I should leave the room.  Very quickly.

Figuring that nobody in the meeting wanted specifics, I stood up in the middle of a cow-orker’s droning monologue and said:

“Excuse me, I have to leave the room.”

I was standing up when droning cow-orker felt compelled to ask:

“Can’t it wait?”

I paused for a microsecond.  Even though I was wearing dark pants, I had to make a quick decision.  Waste time justifying myself to this moron or just make for the facilities I so desperately required.  As justifying myself would (a) take up valuable time and (b) involve sharing more information than I’m sure most people would be comfortable with, I chose the rapid exit option.

“No.  Sorry.  I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

It seems droning doofus had not paid a visit to Clue Town recently.  He was still going on as I charged out the door.

“It’s just that we’re right in the middle of something and…”

I considered shouting “Can you not fucking tell I’m about to shit my pants?”  But that falls into a grey are with regard to acceptable workplace conversation, even for me.  Besides, I didn’t want to be known as “Mr ShittyPants” around the office.  Trust me, the people I work with would do this.

Anyway, disaster averted.  I made it back to my seat with no major trauma and only a few minutes had elapsed.  But it seemed as though Captain Fuckhead wasn’t prepared to let it go.  As I came through the door he made a big show of suspending his monologue until I sat down.  Then he did the condescending schoolteacher thing of saying:

“I trust you can stay with us now?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.  Go ahead now.”

“Because I wouldn’t want to stop you from doing something that’s so important you can’t tell us about it.”

“Look, me leaving the room wasn’t optional OK?  I’m back now, let’s just move on.”

“Well, it isn’t as if the group deserves an explanation, we’ve all given up time to be here.”

At this point pretty much everyone else around the table has taken a good guess as to why I had to leave so suddenly.  People are rolling their eyes at how clueless this fuckwit is.  I’m about to say “the same stuff coming out of your mouth was just shooting out of my arse” when someone defuses the situation by saying “Let’s forget about it and keep going.”

What I couldn’t get over was this dork’s inability to accept that I’m a grownup and I wouldn’t just leave the room without good reason.  The thing is, he’s such a control freak if I had told him the nature of my emergency he’d probably want a detailed report on proceedings.  Worse still would be the same emergency befalling him.  I have a horrible feeling he’d recount his time away from the meeting in graphic detail.

There really is such a thing as too much information.



Filed under Work

18 responses to “Too much information

  1. “Can you not fucking tell I’m about to shit my pants?”

    Every time I imagine the look that must have been on your face I burst out laughing again. Too fucking funny (although I’m sure you were not in a laughing mood at the time).
    I’m curious about one thing. Does this idiot have any kids? I can spot a “poopy-face” a mile away!

  2. If that particular cluebase non-possessor was a colleague of mine, there would possibly be a similar event, carefully scheduled, involving THEM, in the near future.

  3. Someone should slip that jerk an Alli and see how he likes it. Geeez

    I have a loooooong walk from my cubicle to the rest room and I’ve been known to have make a dash for it — but at least most of the time I can come and go as needed (though we are required to let someone know where we are at all times – so we have to leave a note outside our cubicle *rolls eyes* so when I go – I have to let everyone know – my passive aggressive response to this is, when I’m at my desk I have a few signs too – one says “chained to my desk” another says “body here, mind some where else”)

  4. “the same stuff coming out of your mouth was just shooting out of my arse”

    That would have been priceless. Or you could have said, “While you have verbal diarrhea, I get the point…”

  5. Poor..poor..Mr. Angry. Repeat after me..”Less coffee…more solid food. Less coffee…more solid food.” It’s the one downside to my philosophy that “coffee is a food group”. Turns’s a natural laxative too. 😉

  6. Bizarro

    I hope the overtoasted sandwich is not to blame for this sittuation.

  7. Is this someone that you have to work with on a daily basis? No wonder you are ‘Angry 365 Days A Year’!

  8. Vladimir

    >Turns’s a natural laxative too.

    I don’t find it to be anything like that… so it may vary from person to person 🙂

    There’s a joke I heard, which, can be, with some modifications, a pefect model of how to deal with such delicate situations:

    A person (let’s call him Mr. A) enters a toilet room and sees a stranger (let’s call him Mr. B) there.
    Mr. B: “Sir, I’m terribly sorry to ask you that, but could you, please, unzip my fly?”
    Mr. A, however shocked by such request, thinks that there’s probably something with Mr. B’s hands, so he does as he’s asked.
    B: “Oh, thank you! And now can you please take out my penis… and hold it for me, while I… thank you! And now, please, put it back and zip it again… Thanks!”
    A: “Exuse me, I don’t mean to pry, but what’s with your hands, that you can’t do all that yourself?”
    B: “Uh?.. Or, nothing. I just can’t bear to touch it.”

    So, if Mr. Angry is free-spirited enough, he could just invite that other person to go with him and…

  9. slip him a laxative.

    you’re doing the world a favour.

  10. lifebylisa

    I don’t recall ever working with you, but either 1) the clueless moron I worked with moved out of my town, 2) has a brother, or 3) there are just countless clueless morons roaming the face of the earth. Unfortunately for those of us with brain cells, I have to believe it #3, DAMN. I really had hoped to get rid of Chuckiepoo. We really need to hire better lifeguards for the gene pool. Glad you made it through without too much trauma. It would suck to get the name Mr. Shittypants, glad that was averted.

  11. nomoregoatsoup

    I like engtech’s suggestion. Try that, and crown a new Mr ShittyPants!

  12. I work with a few of those control freaks too. You’d think someone died and left them god.

  13. Been there, in college art class. Just wrote a note to the teacher and stuck it in her hand as I ran for the door. The girl presenting gave me an evil eye but some things are more important than undivided attention.

    There’s nothing wrong with Coffee. What do you think the pancreas does?

  14. kyklops: kids or not, this one didn’t have great powers of perception

    ryno: revenge is a fine idea

    Lady Rose: I don’t think he was bright enough to even know what he was holding me back from

    total: yeah, I’d love to see the look on his face if I said that

    CinnKitty: I don’t drink coffee 🙂

    BizarrO; the sandwich is innocent

    Betty: I’m angry for many good reasons!

    Vlad: excellent suggestion, he can wipe next time

    engtech: I think he’d vaporise if I gave him a laxative

    lisa: these people are everywhere

    goatsoup: I’ll make him up a “MR Shittypants” t-shirt

    Sandra: they certainly seem to think so

    Kirk: I didn’t have time to write a note 😉

  15. Some of these managers/presenters are total egomaniacs and control freaks. I just am glad that I am dealing with kids now.

    Then again, dealing with Chinese management is a whole other story.

    “Oh you stupid foreigner!”

    Is something that the locals always think.

  16. Please. I would have told him. Graphically. Thatd make everybody think twice about asking me anything.

  17. Range: at least I don’t have to cope with that

    lola: hahahahah, I’m not sure I want the reputation that would go with that.

  18. Javi Torón

    Agree to Lola… when you’re trying to politely avoid an answer and somebody don’t let you go, well… truth is the best… I should have asked the moron to leave the room with me and explain him (or her) why I was leaving and that, of course, all the people in the meeting is as smart to guess or as educated not to keep asking… and I should wait for an election… dumb or rude?

    I’m reaching your current posts! yihaaaaaa hahaha

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