Hip Hop Culture for Grown-Ups
Words by Tony Grands
If you work in an office, you will relate. If not, you gon’ learn today…
Leaving Your Food In The Fridge Over The Weekend
What’s worse than someone bringing their stinky home cooking to work and heating it up in the microwave, imposing their rank odoriferous ethnic cuisine on your innocent olfactory system? When they leave that stinky crap in the refrigerator over the weekend.
I’ll admit I’m guilty of doing this now and then, but it’s usually only a half-eaten sandwich or a partially gnoshed TV dinner. It’s never something that someone else can’t pronounce nor tolerate without pinching their nose and looking the other direction with the “P.U.” face. That special meatloaf recipe with the special ingredients that your grandma sent you has a shelf life of about two days. After that, Tupperware nor aluminum foil nor Saran Wrap can stop it from smelling like it’s growing cures for diseases.
Do us all a favor; start bringing normal sandwiches or stop bringing foods that smell like they were still alive when you cooked them. Don’t be that guy. That guy that everybody talks about because your lunch causes the employee lounge fridge to smell like the corner market’s butcher’s apron. Do better people. Do, better.
Wearing The “Cheap Stuff” To Work
Everybody with a job has some sort of budget. So it’s understandable that for work, you don’t want to spend too much money to look or smell nice. The clothes, I couldn’t care less about. If you choose to come to work looking like you just rolled over from a long night of prostitution and fast food binging, that’s not my business. But if you come to work smelling like a nickel-sick Baptist church Deacon, reeking of $4.00 cologne, I have a problem with that. And so do my eyes, as they water every time you walk back and forth to the bathroom or someone else’s desk.
The thing about people who buy cheap cologne and perfume is that they refresh it every time they see the bottle. A woman who spends a nice coin on her smell good doesn’t dip into her stash unnecessarily, like an unemployed pothead. But a chick wearing the body spray she scavenged in the nail shop’s parking lot will put on as many coats of her faux pheromone as she deems appropriate. I can’t tell you what to buy, but I can strongly urge that you at least put less of the cheap shit on. I’d appreciate it. We’d ALL appreciate it.
“Borrowing” Pens (And Other Stuff, Too)
There’s nothing real technical or fancy about this one here. I just need for you sticky-fingered bastards to keep your claws off of my cute little pens. The least you could do is return them, but since you don’t, I have an idea…
From this day forth, I’ll rub a couple of my pens between my ass cheeks every day before I go to work. I won’t use these pens because that would be gross, and the last thing I need is to give myself E. coli.
Imagine me explaining to the doctor why I’ve been snacking on poo.
Anyhow, these pens will sit out in the open and whoever contracts some rare disease, I’ll know that you’re a thief. & I won’t trust you ever again. Not only because you stole my pens, but because whatever you caught from my ass residue may not be something that’s easily cured. And you can keep the pen by the way.
Talking About Your Personal Life (Unless I Asked…And Even Then, Tread Lightly)
Talking about your personal life at work is a tightrope. A veritable slippery slope that must be traversed gently. One false move or unnecessarily colorful phrase and you’ll quickly turn your agreeable cubemate into your work-week-enemy. See, once the entire world joined Facebook, it became the place for us to collectively discuss our human experience. Now, when we congregate in real time, there isn’t much to talk about but the details. And nobody cares about details. If you have a quirky, humorous story about some adventurous weekend that you can’t seem to get out of your memory, cool. Kick it to me one day when we’re outside having a 15 minute break. But don’t turn it into a three-day melodrama that I can’t turn off because this is the seat that I was assigned to for the month.
For the record, most people will overlook you talking about your personal life if it’s full of drama. And by drama, I mean chaos and conflict and confusion on a constant basis. It’s entertaining to other people, that’s why reality shows are so popular. But be warned! Don’t talk about your spousal woes. That opens up doors for problems that the average person isn’t prepared to handle nor strong enough to resist. Talking about your spouse is something like talking about a piece of furniture you don’t want anymore. It may seem old and repetitive to you, but you can slap a couple of leather patches on a couch and get a cover for it, and that puppy will be brand spanking new. One person’s trash is…You know the rest.
If you don’t have any drama to share, though, let’s just sit and talk about all the co-workers that we don’t like instead, every day, until one of retires or dies or finds a better job.
Farting At Your Desk
I understand, everybody poops, everybody pees, everybody expels noxious odors. But don’t sit at the cubicle and fart all wild and free and force me to be a part of that shit. (Pun absolutely intended.) That’s the real-world equivalent of emotional terrorism. In a small space like an office, wind doesn’t travel. It wafts to a standstill. Like the smell of coffee for example. That smell will sit in the middle of the room from 9 a.m. to well past the lunch hour rush. Well, it’s the same thing with farts. Except, the smell of coffee is tolerable, even when it’s cheap coffee. Like the kind that you buy at the gas station because you didn’t have time to go to 7-11. But farts? Nah, bruh. That’s literally the smell of your insides. And when it comes to smelling the insides of other humans, I’m very particular where I poke my nose.
Nevertheless, wherever you work, the bathroom is never too far away for you to jog and secrete the aggressive fumes from last night’s chili dog. As a child, I didn’t understand the mechanics of a “passing gas.” Now, as a man, I understand that I’m inhaling particles of that deuce that your bowels are preparing to drop. I don’t have to be a Bill Nye the Science Guy baby to know that I don’t want that happening to me on a daily basis. I’m sure that causes some sort of lung cancer in the long run or something, like human asbestos. Farts are human asbestos. That’s probably why jobs give people such a hard time about health insurance. They know somethings – a lot of things – that we don’t.
I hope you learned today.
Words by Tony Grands
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