apocalypsos | *headwall*

You know, I was going to rant about the whole Thalia situation, but sometimes, like today, I just need to bitch about the further adventures of Captain Asshat.

Okay, look. It's one thing to be an absolute annoying dick. It's another thing entirely to be a throwaway temporary employee who seems to go out of his way to be irritating as humanly possible and yet still have a job.

There are three temps at this job right now. Yours truly, who shows up, does what she has to, is as dependable as possible, and tries to be nice. There's the other girl, Rosie, who's friendly and flirty and very hard-working. And then there's Captain Asshat (which is so much better than Work Geek in the nickname department).

Captain Asshat's various offenses include:

Yesterday, he made a crack about guns in the workplace.

Today, he picked up a cell phone that wasn't his off of a desk that wasn't his and proceeded to try and "figure out whose phone this is" by looking through the call history and basically going as far as he possibly could to invade this person's privacy. His complaint when I called him on it? "What are you, the cell phone police?" Because, of course, he's a mental toddler.

He talks down to every single woman who works there as if they have no fucking clue what they're doing, including the supervisor who's worked with one division for over a decade and a half and the very nice woman who's worked in the other division for a few years already. And somewhere in the middle of all of that, he kisses the ass of every male co-worker, even going so far as to call most of them "Sir."

The annoyingly perky phone voice. Not to mention the way he calls businesses on speakerphone as loud as possible and only picks up after whoever answers gets through their opening spiel. Dude, if he pulled that shit on me, I would hang up on him thinking he was a telemarketer.

The fact that he wears the same green button-down shirt nearly all the bloody time. Either he owns twenty of the damn thing, or he goes home and frantically bashes the thing against a rock in the nearest river so he can wear it again as soon as possible. Neither option is all that appealing.

His overenthusiastic need to do all of the jobs in the place except the one he's supposed to.

His ridiculously inane attempts at humor. Man, "Here today, Ghana tomorrow" wasn't even funny the first time any of us heard it in fifth-grade social studies class. Get over yourself.

And in the same vein, his constant commentary on every stupid thing he does. I get the impression he thinks people will overhear his natterings and think he's an amusing bastard. Le sigh.

His "casual" way of finding a job to do behind me right when I'm either bending over to inspect a package or kneeling in such a way where he might possibly see my underwear under my jeans.

Today, he sent the counter lady back to ask me how to set up a scanner for something that only someone who works the counter would know. He knows I don't work the counter, so what the hell was he doing? Gloating, if the look on his face when he came back there was any indication. "Silly, stupid women."

His continued assertions that what he likes is what will be cool in twenty years. Fine. Timetravel to 2023 and save us your arrogant posturing.

His continued assertions that he is, in fact, a hacker. Did I mention that he did rejoice over the cinematic perfection that was "Hackers"? Seriously. Wtf?! Even I know that there were precisely two things that were perfect in "Hackers" -- Angelina Jolie's right breast, and Angelina's left breast. They were certainly the best actors in the whole bloody film, not to mention that every moment they were on screen, they exhibited that singular joy that can only be expressed by that well-known adage, "Look, Mom! I'm on TV!" She even followed up every moment they were on screen with a subtle shake, as if to wave at the camera. See, you think I'm making this up.

His striking resemblance to Michael J. Fox. Dude, there should be a law against that. Then again, it's good for me in the long run, because he's got the Michael J. height going on, which means a fight with dinky old me will be the first time in our lives either one of us has picked on someone our own size. Wheeee!

Oh, joy. A co-worker who pisses me off and creeps me out. Just what I always wanted.

And for those who know about the Thalia deal ... yes, he's real. Unfortunately.

Someone make the bad McFly stop. I beg you.

Can it just be Saturday already, please? At least if I can write, I can vent that way.

It's a horror story, somewhat. I could have him as a side character who gets eaten by the Easter Bunny.

Oh, I didn't just think that.

Oh, yes, I did. And I thought of a way it could actually work.

Bad brain! No porn!