This week on That Guy I Hate, we have the old finance guy at work.  You know the one, he’s the guy that talks at you, not to you. He’s the dude who tells you stories you can’t contribute to about people you couldn’t know.  His love of hearing himself talk is only surpassed by his unwavering ability to make those around him uncomfortable.  He’s 15 years too old to still be in his current position, career-wise, and this is the only time he can feel in control of his shit life even though every conversation he has ends with the person thanking whatever god they pray to that it’s finally, mercifully concluded.  He would be someone you would pity if he wasn’t so condescending and borderline racist/sexist.

Now, it’s not that I don’t enjoy joking or saying inappropriate shit at work.  (I once ‘scolded’ a female friend/coworker for swearing by loudly letting her know that she’d “never land a man talking like that.”  She laughed so hard she snorted)  I think pretty much nothing is off limits as long as it’s funny or at the very least there’s some context.  Unfortunately, the only laughter here is nervous and uncomfortable in the hope that he will get his fix and just go away.  Like the same way you’d deal with a bear attack, just curl up in a ball, let him bat you around for a while then hopefully he gets bored and waddles away.

No one cares about your hilarious anecdote about Mallory on that floor I’ve never been to who does that job I’ve never heard of, you semi senile old shit.  Do the world a favor and retire so that an intern in Mumbai or a computer in Omaha can takeover your responsibilities.  You make people uncomfortable and someone probably would have filed a lawsuit against you by now if it wasn’t for the feelings of guilt that crop up when one is potentially sending an old bigot to jail for the remaining week and a half of their life.  But it’s ok.  I don’t even know your name.  We sit in the same confined space for hours on end and I could not care less what your friends would call you if I thought you ever had any.  So, here’s to you, inappropriate old guy at that office.  I hope that child molester vibe you give off is all in my head.
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