IT’S RANT O’CLOCK BABY!!!

Today I will be discussing the dirty peasants in my office. Firstly I would like to point out that these people are in the minority. The majority of people I work with are very nice, tidy and hygienic people, just trying to get through the day without contracting cholera. As it often is in life however the few spoil it for the many – and now they’re going to pay. I don’t know who they are yet but if you’re reading this, shame on you!

So what is it that’s been vexing me I hear you ask. Well luckily enough I’ve made a list so brace yourself.

1. Seems like a small thing, but Toilet Paper.

Why is it that when people use the last of the toilet paper do they find it so hard to go and get a nice new one from under the sink, less than 3 feet away? I know it’s quite the journey and takes a lot of energy and determination but… oh, wait – no it doesn’t! It doesn’t at all! Lazy Arse Syndrome.

This brings me nicely to number 2 (if you’ll excuse the pun).

2. The Phantom Lumberjack.

Some dirty, dirty little git keeps leaving ‘Logs’ in the ladies toilet. Not just every now and then either, but 2 or 3 times a week. Big huge turds, often so big that they can’t be fully submerged in the water! At least 9 inches in length I’d say (not that I’ve measured you understand, I’m obsessive not insane). Now, granted, they aren’t the easiest things to flush away as I have learnt by experience. Some have been known to resist up until the seventh flush (I call these seveners) but if I can have the patience and gritty determination to stand and whinge and flush until my hands are raw, they can’t do the same!

You’d think I’d be used to it by now but each time my blood-curdling shrieks can be heard echoing throughout the branch as I heave and wretch and flush emphatically, all the while screaming ‘dirty f* B**£ds!!!’

The stench is so overpowering that I have to be very careful not become overwhelmed by the fumes and pass out or die. My greatest fear is to be found lying there and somebody thinking it was me!

For some reason this disturbing phenomenon always seem to occur around lunchtimes – what’s that about? Is The Phantom Lumberjack trying to make us all involuntarily bulimic? I can only assume she is.

3. Speaking of Lunchtime…

We have a fridge in our little lunch area for people to keep their lunch in. A facility such as this would be difficult to abuse you might think. You might think that but you’d be underestimating the peasant power at work here. People have the disgusting habit of leaving food they don’t want in that fridge for weeks, sometimes months at a time until the foods DNA has changed into something completely different. Something with a soul of its own, or perhaps the cure for Bird Flu. These items, usually yoghurts, are so old and manky they should be in some sort of museum such as ‘The Museum of Socially Unacceptable Behaviour’ or ‘Trampworld’. They don’t need to be thrown away fortunately. My colleague Sally merely has to open the fridge door and entice them out with a piece of chocolate or a craft cheese slice and humanely ushers them into a bin.

4. If You Use Something Up… Replace It!

Oh, and why when people use the last of something can they not go and fetch some more from downstairs? LAZINESS! That’s why. A rather alarming trend that seems to have taken off since I went a bit psycho and started yelling at things is that now people don’t use the last of something. Instead they leave just one of whatever it is they’ve used up in the box! One sheet of paper, one packet if individually portioned sugar, one PAPERCLIP! It’s disturbing. The effort some people will go to just to avoid work! ONE PIECE OF PAPER! WTF?!

5. The Coffee Machine

The same goes for filling up the coffee machine. People will use the last of something and then walk away, forcing the next who wants whatever is missing to… have something else instead!! You thought I was going to say fill it up then didn’t you! Silly you! God forbid they should fill it up. That would be terrible. Better to leave it for somebody else to do.

I once witnessed somebody take a cup of black tea because they couldn’t be bothered to walk up 14 steps to go and fetch some more milk. Black tea is fair enough if it’s a personal preference but if instead it is merely an avoidance technique based on laziness, help needs to be sought?!

I’m actually considering placing an emergency bottle of energy drink in a box with ‘In case of emergency break glass’ written on the front. The only problem with that scenario being, anyone that might be likely to need it would undoubtedly be too lazy to break the glass.

‘IN CASE OF EMERGENCY ASK SOMEONE TO OPEN THIS FOR YOU’ – Better.

Oh, and don’t get me started on cleaning the bloody thing! No bugger wants to clean it out, including me but for some reason I’ve taken it upon myself (perhaps I like pain). The first time I cleaned it there was so much green mould growing in the bin area that I thought I was going to die. Actually I nearly did. The mould was dry and crumbled and I inhaled some (accidentally of course, it wasn’t some sort of crazy drugs experiment). Anyway, I breathed it in and spent the next few days cowering in the dark with a head to toe rash that made me look like a crazy leper. Sexy. Also, when the bin is full it needs to be emptied. Crazy logic I know but it’s true! Why then is it that, if the bin gets full and the machine brings that to somebody’s attention , they stand there, look at the machine, look at me, back to the machine, scratch their head, look back to me and say,

“It says it’s full”?

Why when I reply “It just needs emptying” do they look baffled, scared and like they want to cry and say

“I’m not that thirsty” or “I’ll come back later”.

Oh, you’ll come back later will you? When? I’ll tell you when! When I have emptied the bin, that’s when! That job SUCKS! It’s the worst job in the building. I can’t actually do it without heaving a fact that many of my colleagues will attest to. That said, it’s getting easier since I learned to hold my breath for four minutes at a time!

And this brings me to the straw that broke the Clairey’s back.

6. Bad Bad Behaviour

Lucky for me, I was on holiday last week. I had a lovely time with my friend Phil whom I went to visit. I hardly thought about work at all and had a very nice time. What I didn’t realise (but should have) was that back in Trampsville some bright spark had decided that it would be a good idea to use the water cooler drip tray as a slops bucket for his or her hot chocolate dregs. Well this is a whole new level of disgusting. A week passed and today I returned to work. At first I thought a mouse had fallen in and died but then after closer inspection I realised what had occurred. TRAMP ATTACK.

Dutifully – if a little grudgingly I immediately removed the festering drip tray for a closer inspection. There was green mould and grey fur in alarming quantities. I silently imploded with rage, then not so silently stormed upstairs to chisel out the mould and pray there was nothing harmful living in it. After about 20 minutes (I kid you not) 20 furious minutes of scrubbing that tray until it was its rightful colour again I marched back down to replace it.

No less than four people kindly informed me that they had seen the petri dish of scum and bile earlier in the day and agreed with me that it was ‘disgusting’ and that ‘people in this place should pull their weight’.

Oh you saw it did you? But what? Didn’t know where the sink was? WANTED TO SEE HOW TALL THE MOULD WOULD GROW? Thought it would be cruel to kill it? Or did you just think save it for Claire?