Friday, December 21, 2012

Printer Nazi Rant

This is a rant. 

About a person in my department nobody likes.

We had a class together at college (but she apparently doesn’t remember me, mainly because she hates to acknowledge that she went to my college and didn’t graduate).  I remember her.  She was the worst kind of English major snob—that makes unfunny jokes about iambic pentameter, pretends to swoon when she hears Anglo Saxon aloud, and bitches about Charles Dickens. 
As an English major, there was a minority of peers I could stand.  English majors have been stereotyped as being stuck-up know-it-alls.
That stereotype is completely true.
Why do you think I loved the history crew so much I became a double major?! The history nerds are cool.  They know how to party.  And they have a life, instead of spending their weekends watching an uncut PBS presentation of Shakespeare and complaining about the editing.
They take themselves so seriously and talk as I imagine an Englishman in Africa in the late 19th century would sound.  Pompous, demeaning, ludicrous.

And the history majors I know make the best inappropriate jokes. So in the English vs History battle, HISTORY DOMINATES. TELL YOUR CHILDREN.

So, back to this person, the star of my rant.  We will call her Printer Nazi.  A more apt title I could not come up with.

To put it simply…well, basically she is a bitch.
And not the kind of bitch the practical kind either (i.e. someone who is smart and capable and nearly justifiably snarky).
She is just always grumpy.  Even though she has a basic job and no demands are put on her and she never has to work overtime.
She literally reads books at her desk while she is on the clock.
She is actually doing that as I write this!

She makes bitter, insulting comments all the time. My second week at work, when I lost my voice from stress (over my impending surgery), I was talking to my department and Printer Nazi threw a cough drop at me and said “suck on this! Your voice sounds like crap and it’s hurting my ears—stop talking.”

I was stunned.  Because I lost my voice, it hurts your ears?? I didn’t even know how to respond.  Everyone else was discussing a problem and didn’t hear what she said.  I just went into my 90’s mode and said “BITE ME.” And went back to work.

Several departments share a big printer on our floor and she thinks that the printer belongs solely to her.  She literally stands in front of it and yells at people to STOP PRINTING.  Which she has no right to, obviously.  She is in a low level position and has told off higher-ups for interfering with her print jobs. 
She is also a perfume Nazi.  She tells us literally EVERY DAY that she is highly sensitive to scents.
Yet, whenever one of us applies lotion, or perfume, she says nothing.  However, if she coughs, she instantly starts sniffing the air for the culprit and shrieking about someone spraying perfume, even though she just coughed because, well, sometimes your body makes you cough.  Whenever all of us are intently working, typing away at our desks, she starts hyperventilating, sucking down vast amounts of air going “I CAN SMELL SOMETHING! WHO PUT ON LOTION?! I TOLD YOU NOT TO DO THAT??”
It is psychotic. 

I have since accumulated a list of things she does that are evidence of her complete absurdity.  If and when I write a book, her traits would be simply marvelous to have on file for an annoying character.
(sidenote: font is being goofy! Sorry, don't know why!)
-          She hates quails.  This obviously needs to be at the top of the list because: WHO. HATES. QUAIL?! They are adorable, innocent little birds, with their bobbers hanging in front of their faces, all running around in a row! She loves to complain about them and how dumb they are and purposefully tries to hit them with her car.  WHAT. THE. F*CK.

-          She talks ostentatiously about figs.  Yes, FIGS! We’re talking about a girl that wears frumpy sweaters, long skirts, tights, and Crocs to work every day. She isn’t high society.  But she loves to go on these extemporaneous talks about things like figs and currants.  At our work party today, someone brought Panettone, which is this delicious bread-like cake with goodies in it, and Printer Nazi was like “oh my goodness, this has figs in it!” and she started purring, and then knowingly looked at all of us and said “figs are such an acquired taste, blahblahblah.”  Somebody read the back of the box, and said “uh, no. No figs. Those are raisins.”  It was glorious.

-          She wears thumbs.  You know, those little rubber things you slip over your fingers to flip through a stack of papers? They’re like condoms for your digits and they’re brown and super awkward looking.  She wears them all the time.  Yuck.

-          She glues puzzles together and frames them.  I know that some people do this with their puzzles and think it is a good idea….it’s not.  It is lame and weird and puzzles are meant to be put together and taken apart and put together again.  It is an activity you can enjoy an unlimited number of times! If you want a framed picture, buy a picture and frame it.  Why do you want to hang up a picture that has cracks and lines in it because it is actually a glued together puzzle?! THEY ARE TWO DIFFERENT THINGS, PEOPLE.  Are you really so proud of yourself for fitting little cardboard pieces together that you feel the need to frame it?!
This is a big pet peeve of mine, and it has always been a red flag of insanity for me.  Like if I see a glued-together, framed puzzle hanging in someone’s house, I involuntarily shudder, assume they have bodies in the basement or taxidermy cats in their bedroom and I get the hell out of there.
So not only does Printer Nazi do this awful deed, she brags about it.  As in “This weekend I did TWO puzzles and I’ve already glued and framed them, now I just need to decide where to hang them.”  What a thrilling weekend.

-          Her boyfriend is a plant.  No, not a government agent, a potted green plant on her desk.  She doesn’t have a real boyfriend (I think she is just too mean and unappealing), so she calls this plant her boyfriend.  And strokes it sometimes.

-          She buys those compressed instant towelettes at the dollar store and uses them. On a regular basis.  And complains that they don’t grow big enough when put in water.  I’m not even sure what to say about that one.

-          She lives with one other girl, they rent a little house together, and when her roommate is out of town, Printer Nazi sleeps on the couch.  She says when her beloved roommate is gone, she can’t sleep in her own bed.  So she sleeps on the couch.  For weeks at a time.  I’m not sure of the Freudian implications of this one, but it doesn’t look good.

-          If she leaves the office a few minutes after 5pm, she has to have an escort to the parking lot.  Keep in mind that our office is located in Sandy, Utah, one of the top 5 safest places in the world, that the parking lot is small and open and well-lit, and that between 5 and 6 there are always employees coming and going.  It isn’t some abandoned basement lot in downtown L.A. at midnight!  She believes that someone is going to “get her.”  And she always puts it in a way that comes across as “I am worth attacking.”
I never leave right at 5 pm, and last night I stayed late with another co-worker so we could decorate a girl’s desk for her birthday the next day.  Printer Nazi sat there and watched us taping up streamers and signs for 20 minutes, and refused to help.  She couldn’t blow up balloons because she “had a headache.” Printer Nazi wouldn’t leave without one of us going with her, and sat there and complained that we were taking too long and that she wanted to leave.


And that is my rant about the Printer Nazi.
Expect updates.

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