Shut the Fuck Up!

Ugh, I can't stand co-workers sometimes. Actually, I just don't like one in particular. I can't say how happy I am to be getting out of here in about a week only b/c of one person.

I knew I was in trouble this morning when it was only going to be Cathy, myself, and "the worst conversationalist ever". I knew that she was going to take out all her boring, shit talk on me since there wasn't enough people to spread all the crap around to. As I was about to start into some work, this chick starts in with me and I didn't scramble soon enough to get work in my hand and she trapped me. Fuck!

As I write this, the girl who I am writing this about is talking at me. Yes, not TO me, she's really just talking AT me. And what I mean is I'm not even looking at her, but she still keeps talking.

She's one of those people who starts talking, spins from topic to topic and doesn't even give you time to acknowledge with a "yes" or "oh, I see" or one of the many other polite acknowledgements, she just keeps going. And the only thing I wonder when she's blabbing is where does she store all that air to talk with b/c in a span of 30 min, I've never seen her take a breath.

This girl has one of the most severe cases of diarrhea of the mouth that I have ever seen. What doesn't make it any better is that she's got a real bad Chicago accent mixed with a touch of Fran Drescher or whatever the fuck the Nanny's name is.

So this morning she starts with "So E, what did you do this weekend?" And I knew I was in trouble. Before I even had a chance to answer, she cuts in with what she did over the weekend. She starts with how her husband got home from work late on Friday, to how her husband is short, to how he lost 25 lbs since they got married b/c he's in Kung Fu or Ultimate Fighter or some shit, to how he's on a special diet, to how she's on this special diet, to how they danced at Mother's (aka the worst bar ever) one time and she thought he looked fat b/c he didn't tuck in his shirt, to how he can bench 400 lbs but he's only 5'6", to how broad his chest is but his stomach was like that to, to how his face used be huge, to how they used to try to play tennis, to how she knows of a tennis club up by her place, to how she likes her neighborhood, to how she grew up in this one hood nearby, to how she got drunk at this one park for the first time, to how she made up this game for her dog over the weekend, to how she tried to trick her hubby with the toy she bought for her dog with this game she made up, to how he plays with his PSP, to how she used to like Atari and Colecovision from back in the day.

And this entire fucking time, I have not turned my head around once and I have typed up every topic that she has transitioned to while the utter verbal bile continues to drain out of her mouth.

THERE! She stopped. Thank the Lord! I can't believe I was able to write that much without acknowledging her and she just kept going. If I ever had to live with someone like that, I would be on the fucking suicide hotline on a nightly basis.

OH GOD, NO, NO, NOOOOOOO, she fucking starting again! Please stop, please, please, please! I am going to turn around with my stapler and whip it at her fucking mouth in about 2 seconds.

She stopped.

You know, she's so bad that when I first started in this group, I didn't know how to handle it so I would discreetly press the volume button on my phone to make it go to the next volume level. In turn, this would also make the phone sound like it was ringing. "Oh, sorry, I have to pick this one up". That used to work well, I may have to bring that one back.