Stuff I Think About
Conversations with the Cactus

My Adventures With This Guy

So there's This Guy.

At work. I don't know his name. I have only a vague idea of what he does and who he works for, but yet This Guy? Totally has it in for me.

Last week, I was walking from the parking garage to the office. I was about 10 steps behind This Guy. He didn't pause to hold the door for me, but whatever. As I came through the door, he was at the elevators and looked over at me. I smiled at him and sped up a bit. He got on the elevator. I sped up even more, only to have the doors close right in my face.

Now see, we're on the top floor of our building and these elevators are slooooow. We always hold the elevator for other top-floor people. I'll feign obliviousness for anyone I don't know, because nothing pisses me off more than those second-floor people who take the elevator when it's ONE FREAKING FLIGHT OF STAIRS. Plus? Elevators. Sloooooooow.

So this was...odd. I'm sure This Guy knows we work for the same company; we pass each other all the time in the hallways. Plus I was wearing a suit and we're the only damn company in the whole damn building with a formal dress code. The other floors are full of people in jeans, shorts, tutus, etc.

But whatever. I got another elevator. I moved on.

Flash-forward to 5:30 pm. Walking back through the parking garage to my car. As I turn up the aisle to my car, a big SUV comes flying (FLYING) around the corner. It's taken the left far too close and I have to jump over to the right to avoid being hit. Guess who's driving? I trip and sort of fall against a nearby parked car, which promptly announces to the world that it! Is! Being! Stolen!

And now this morning. I'm about 10 steps ahead of him on the way to the elevators. I hold the door for him and some woman I don't know. (You know, to be all nice and martyr-like.) (I have not really moved on.) He gets on first, and instead of stepping to the big empty side of the elevator where I wasn't? He steps to the same side I'm standing. Where I am holding the door open. It was like I wasn't even there. I had to let go of the door and jump back to avoid being stepped on. And of course, the woman who got on after him was from the third floor and you need to swipe your security card to get the elevator to stop on the third floor. The swipey thing is on the side where we were now both standing. Without looking, he steps backwards to let the woman swipe her card and whacks me in the chest with his briefcase. Ow.

And instead of apologizing? He just kinda turns around and grunts in my general direction, like his briefcase was just attacked by an invisible force-field.

We get to our floor and he gets off and goes to swipe his security card to enter the interior of the floor. (We're totally nuts for security. There are combination locks on the ladies' room.) To my surprise, he opens the door but steps back to let me go first. And as I say "thank you" and walk through...the door closes right on my foot. Ow.

So. This Guy has nearly run me over with his car, nailed me in the chest with his briefcase, and bruised my ankle with a door. Either I have suddenly developed super-invisibility powers or I will soon be killed by This Guy. I should at least figure out his name so I can etch his initials on the elevator walls with my last dying breath or something.



God! What an ass!!

(And this time, I don'tmean it in a good way! *wink*)


I hate it when people don't obey the proper elevator etiquette.


Maybe you're invisible? Have you checked that lately?


ooooh. He doesnt know who he's messing with does he? What a jerkhole


I just hate rude people. Seriously. I do.


He? Is totally a bastard. You need to teach him a lesson. I know people in DC, if you know what I mean...


If this were junior high, all of the things you described in this post would mean that he's crushing on you. Something to mull over, maybe.


ahhh revenge is so sweet:

1) used maxi pad --plaster that fucker to the bumper of his SUV. afterall, who looks at their back bumper? he'll be driving around with it all day

2) cat poo + desk drawer = rip roaring time

i rest my case.


I think he needs to learn that you do not fuck with The Queen of Everything.


What a fucktard! I think you should "accidentally" spill a cup of scalding hot coffee on him. Or trip him, or punch him. Seriously, I can put up with a lot of shit, but this sort of thing sends me over the edge.

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