I Wish I Never Heard This

Please let me start this post by apologizing for the images I am about to burn into your brain. In fact - before you start reading you need to find a happy picture that you can use for brain bleach after you are done.

No not THAT one - quick pick another!

So I work with this guy who loves to talk. So much that he just doesn't know when to quit.

Less than a month into this new job I come to find out that he's been discussing his weekend plans. No biggie, everybody does that right? Sure, but not everybody's weekend plans include attending a swingers party.

I personally did not have to hear any of the details but the idea still left me feeling squeamish and vaguely nauseated. I don't care to picture anybody doing the nasty but somehow picturing a short heavy man doing this type of nasty is even worse. He looks a lot like Jack Black - just in case you too wanted the visual.

End result, I tell him that sharing his sexcapades at work is unacceptable and consider the topic closed. I move forward to dealing with his other issues. Primarily - small dog syndrome. Truly the guy is a firecracker with a very short fuse and he spends most days daring someone to light it. Either way, he goes on vacation for a week.

On his FIRST day back from vacation, this train wreck of a conversation took place.

Him: So and so was telling me to do this that or the other thing. I turned around and said "I don't want to have sex with you"

My Brain: Please tell me you are full of shit and did NOT really say that to a co-worker. It's the end of a long day and I'm tired and I don't want to deal with the motherfucking paperwork.

And then I try to race walk fast enough to get away from him. Of course, no such fucking luck, he's stuck to me like white on rice.

Him: I have a reason for saying that to people when they start telling me do this or do that.

My Brain: Oh, you mean you have an excuse for being a rude asshole? I thought it was just your personality, or maybe your bigotry. Whatever, you probably didn't really say that and you're just blowing smoke up my ass.

Him: I have a very specific reason for saying that. It's because when people start telling me what to do it's hardwired into my sex-drive. That's why I tell them I don't want to have sex with them.

I swear to God the world stopped revolving for a heartbeat while my brain tried in vain to convince me I did NOT just hear what I think I heard. I mean it could be just exhaustion screwing with my head right?

My Brain: What the fuck did he just say? Is he trying to tell me he's a submissive or whatever the fuck you call it? Are you serious! Who the hell just drops that kind of bomb into a conversation?

I start race walking away from him as fast as I can.

Only he's still right behind me like a tick on a dog, and THEN he drops this bomb.

Him: So now you know why I say that, but it doesn't apply to supervisors.

My Brain: Wait, WTF does that mean? If I tell him what to do he's going to get turned on?

Since then I have this image of a short fat hairy man in leather straps and shit, as some woman stands over him with a whip. And I see this image EVERY fucking time I see him or hear his psychotic clown laugh, and I vomit a little bit.