Some coworkers are more ignorant than others. Or, as they say here, Ignant.
January 12th, 2016
Though my physical energy level appears to be slowly improving, my emotional fortitude is kinda sorta tanking out here at work. Oh sure, I'm able to actually do my job and all that, but I keep feeling my mental editing equipment straining under the pressure of dealing with some of the more... outspoken... people that also, ostensibly, work here. When not being so outspoken all over this decrepit building.
The one who's pushing all of my buttons of late is Professor Beatshiskids.
This particular ignoramus loves to lecture everybody in the joint about the latest garbage he's heard on talk radio, every single morning. And he also likes to lecture everybody in the joint about the Bible, and his considerably warped understanding of the material. Oh, and he likes to let us know how kids these days are a mess, because their parents aren't allowed to beat them into the hospital like he did his own offspring.
Because I bring the laptop into the break room in order to have a surface to type on that isn't tainted with chemicals, I invariably get stuck listening to his lectures to other coworkers. No matter how high I turn up my headphones, I can't help but hear his rants, or at least select snippets therein, about Muslims or people on welfare or Kids These Days or liberals or Sean Hannity's current favorite target.
I hate Professor Beatshiskids.
The worst part about the man is how he doesn't know how to eat. Just today, while going on about the Antichrist and Jews and generally setting the company up for a hostile workplace lawsuit, he was inhaling one oversized pretzel after another. And the man doesn't know how consume anything, solid or liquid, without smacking his mouth. So interspersed with his regular bile, every fourth word or so, is SMACK SMACK SMACK.
I'd park my car on his nasty, hateful mouth, but that would make me the bad guy, somehow. How does that even work?