We are sitting around the lunch table at one of my favy venture projects. Ah, the ubiquitous Norwegian office lunch: bread, cheese, ham, pate, sardines, toms, red pepper and cuces... oh yes, and the tubes of mayo. It is pretty much the same as Norwegian breakfast and all day snacks, every day, day after day...
...I digress.
The lunch table is jammed with a dozen 25+ year old Compsci and Math grads and phds, some still dissertating. It is all guys in jeans, black t-shirts with all manner of body hair, bar 2 girls, islands of beauty in this hairfest. One of the girls is new. I make a note to myself to instruct management to hire more girls, asap.
The table talk is gripping.
Minion1: My mate is 24 and he just had a heart valve replaced, like he almost died. The doctor told him he had to be careful with alcohol and go slowly. He like asked the doctor if it was ok to like top up his IV drip with like beer for a starter...
The table collectively chortles. It’s like Beavis and Butthead X 6.
Minion2: Ya well my friend told me his boss was introducing mandatory drug testing and my friend was like, ‘ya, like if you fail the test we’re gonna like fire you...
The table is snorting in unison. Bread crumbs are being blown from nose and mouth.
Minion3: Ya well, my mate took home this like older lady on the weekend, I think she was like 40 or something, and he like shagged her senseless. He was woken up in the morning when her son walked in the room. My friend was like, “weren’t we in the same class at school?"....
The table erupts in ape like howls. I could swear I was in the fucking monkey cage at the zoo.
Girl2 gets up from her chair, clears her dishes, and quietly leaves the room.
Girl1: You know Girl2 is a Muslim and does not drink alcohol or approve of drugs... and I think she may be a virgin.
The table is in a heightened alpha state of pre-secretion frenzy. I am concerned an imminent discharge from one of these loaded pistols may spoil my lunch.
BB: You better show her the ropes Girl1 or she’s not going to last here for long.
Girl1: I warned her you guys are always talking about boozing, shagging and your penises, and that she ought not to be offended. After all, it is a secular company, and you guys do a great job of offending all creeds equally.
Girl1 is a top girl. She actually gives much worse than she ever gets from the guys, especially at table talk.
RESPECT.
Beaverboosh
Friday, May 21, 2010
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9 comments:
if my skin weren't 2 inches thick? i'd have been gone years ago... learning to laugh at the young jackals, while somehow getting in a verbal jab or two at them? survival... way to go, Girl1!
"Imminent discharge".... hahahahahaha
I'm impressed. I didn't think it was possible to offending all creeds equally. Can I get a copy of the minutes?
We don't have a table, per se, but there is an area where office side chairs are pulled up around a couple of coffee tables in the atrium. And there nearly everyone in my group gathers for lunch. I do not join them, preferring the solitude of my office and surfing the (diminishingly accessible - thanks to Websense) intertubes.
Most of my "colleagues" - fellow group members - are much, much younger than I. Most are not much older than my own children. I don't indulge in conversations much - risque or otherwise - with any of them.
Besides, our management is so anal about "diversity" and "hostile workplaces" that most conversations would be dull, dry and boring anyways.
Embrace what you have BB, that environment may not be around for long.
OMG. If I like, worked at that company and had to like, eat with those knuckleheads every day and listen to their inane ramblings, I would like totally, stab myself with my fork. I mean, OMG, gag me.
(After this, I'm done with the fork jokes, I promise.)
It's interesting that these high educated dudes don't have more interesting things to talk about. My feminist women's shelter co workers would eat these hairy boys alive and spit out thier bones...hehehe better keep them in your office where they are safe.
I have days when I'm girl1 and days when I'm girl2. And some days I'm a third kinda girl. The one you don't want a close encounter with.
Wow. This is why after all I'm happy we don't even have time to take a lunch break at work, or any break for that matters.
df - girl, you'd kick big ass here!
nm - does happen...
kyk - not mathematically of course... its in the post
rob - abso pal, i'd go to jail behaving the way I do here back home
michele - omg, like, no more like forks for you... maybe like plastic ones... but like thats it
dianeca - yes please, we need a few to temper the lads
dolce - ok, no close encounters of the third kind thanks
zhu - you'd have a great larf... and work less
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