Return of the Juan Panther
Today, in Juan News:
Juan and I have a very special co-worker in our tiny little enclave. This co-worker drives us a little, um, fucking crazy. The entire office feels this way. A consensus of annoyance and irritation has been reached amongst all 9 of us. We just don't dig her.
So, a few of us were gathered in mine and Juan's office, chatting about shoes (my favorite subject), the special co-worker included. How did Juan feel about this invasion, Shannon? Well, he does not like it when someone wears out their welcome, or in this case, his welcome. Hence, the swift and desperate cry for help. Juan needed rescuing. He stood behind the person in question, and jestured wildly, as if to say, "I'll slit your throat," or "Get out or I'll throw you out,"or "My wife is Columbian, bitch." The slit your throat thing might have actually meant I'll cut your entire head off. Or perahps my wife will slit your throat. There's plenty of room for interpretation because I totally suck ass at Charades. Nonetheless, he made his point. As a courtesy to him, and for my own relief, I abruptly ended the conversation. I wonder if this co-worker thinks that everyone in the entire world is curt like our snarky selves. Is anyone nice to her? Anybody? Does she try the patience of her local grocer? Could the hourly employees at her favorite shoe store dream of pummeling her, too? What about the people on the subway? Can they tell what lies beneath? I pray for her everyday. I ask God to bless her with all the nice things I wish for myself. Doesn't seem to be working too well. For either of us.
But I digress. Eventually an exit was made. And, boy, did I hear it from my padre!
"You have to make her talk? Why you not cut it out? I have to suffer, bitch?"
We all suffer, Juan-o. She is the pebble in everyone's shoe in this office. But we suffer together, and we'd never make it alone. Thank God one of us is good at charades. That shit was hysterical, bitch.
posted by Shannon E. Ennis at
Friday, April 15, 2005
Juan and I have a very special co-worker in our tiny little enclave. This co-worker drives us a little, um, fucking crazy. The entire office feels this way. A consensus of annoyance and irritation has been reached amongst all 9 of us. We just don't dig her.
So, a few of us were gathered in mine and Juan's office, chatting about shoes (my favorite subject), the special co-worker included. How did Juan feel about this invasion, Shannon? Well, he does not like it when someone wears out their welcome, or in this case, his welcome. Hence, the swift and desperate cry for help. Juan needed rescuing. He stood behind the person in question, and jestured wildly, as if to say, "I'll slit your throat," or "Get out or I'll throw you out,"or "My wife is Columbian, bitch." The slit your throat thing might have actually meant I'll cut your entire head off. Or perahps my wife will slit your throat. There's plenty of room for interpretation because I totally suck ass at Charades. Nonetheless, he made his point. As a courtesy to him, and for my own relief, I abruptly ended the conversation. I wonder if this co-worker thinks that everyone in the entire world is curt like our snarky selves. Is anyone nice to her? Anybody? Does she try the patience of her local grocer? Could the hourly employees at her favorite shoe store dream of pummeling her, too? What about the people on the subway? Can they tell what lies beneath? I pray for her everyday. I ask God to bless her with all the nice things I wish for myself. Doesn't seem to be working too well. For either of us.
But I digress. Eventually an exit was made. And, boy, did I hear it from my padre!
"You have to make her talk? Why you not cut it out? I have to suffer, bitch?"
We all suffer, Juan-o. She is the pebble in everyone's shoe in this office. But we suffer together, and we'd never make it alone. Thank God one of us is good at charades. That shit was hysterical, bitch.
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