Enough about The Lunchist, I’ve got my own problems in the lunchroom

First, I should probably address the concerned Queefie emails I’ve been getting about the flooding here.  The Crissys have emerged unscathed, thanks for asking.  Our basement is dry, our street is dry, we’re dry. Getting to work is harder for both me and Mister though because our normal routes are flooded, and so it takes us each like 20 minutes instead of 10 to get to work.  OH, THE HARDSHIP!  I haven’t been able to see my Vinny over at the deli because the Stop & Shop is underwater.  That’s okay though because absence makes the heart grow fonder and that was a ghetto Stop & Shop anyway.  They didn’t really even have an organic section.

I know.  WTF?

Ghetto.

But enough about boring stuff like states of emergency and disasters because apparently, the lunchroom at work has it out for both  me and The Lunchist. I’m having issues in there too.

I eat dinner at my desk now because there’s this annoying person who likes to take her dinner break at the same time as I do.  We’ll call her Princess Twattington because that is not her name. She’s all of 16 or 17 and is but a lowly library page who puts the books back on the shelves.  That’s right Queefies, librarians have people for that. Contrary to popular belief, they don’t do it themselves.  Library pages are also the people who have to clean the poopie off the books when somebody decides to make a whole ‘nuther kind of deposit in the book drop.  I pray Miss Twattington is on duty the next time it happens because the experience will be good for her.

Anyway, Miss Twattington has a little bit of a problem understanding lunch room etiquette.  For example, if I am such an asshole as to get to the lunch room first and put my humble little frozen Amy’s dinner in the microwave, and she  happens to walk in and find the microwave is taken for the moment, she stands in front of it with her dinner in her hand and taps her little toe waiting for the thing to beep, and as soon as it does, she punches the button to open the door and shouts “WHOSE DINNER IS THIS?”  in her most annoyed princess voice and she takes the dinner out and throws it on the counter.  You can forget about checking to see if your dinner is hot enough because Miss Twattington already has her stuff in the microwave before you can even get over there.

She doesn’t do this to only me. She pulled my boss’s dinner out and put it in front of her on the table.  My boss is not a woman to be trifled with.  I’m surprised she let Miss Twattington keep her face, to be honest.

While other people may be able to tolerate Miss Twattington’s behavior, I have a hard time with it and I’ve come pretty close to punching her dead in the face because that precious 30 minutes in the lunch room is quite often the only peace and quiet I get all week.  It’s the only time I have to sit with a People magazine or an InStyle or a Pottery Barn catalog or whatever and just eat my sad little dinner without having to get up a hundred times to cater to some kids.  And then I come to work and I have to deal with this crap from somebody else’s kid?

I call bullshit on that.

And before you think I’m overreacting, there’s more.

There are 5 other chairs at the table and she chooses the one RIGHTNEXTOME and practically sits in my lap. I’ve tried spreading my stuff out so she’d choose another chair, but NO.  She totally invades my space and puts her stuff down ON TOP OF my stuff and then, and this is the most annoying thing for me, she chews like a cow and loudly smacks her lips and BELCHES while she eats.

I do not like to have my space invaded and I do not like eating noises, Queefies.

Just ask Mister.  If people get too close to me, I move.  If people are gross when they eat,  I’ll take my dinner and eat it somewhere else because it makes me want to stab them in the eye with a fork.

And then if I’m at the sink washing my dishes, she literally puts her hands in front of me and starts washing her dishes as if I wasn’t already there!

And sadly for Miss Twattington, the lunchroom is not the only place where her etiquette skills are lacking.  I’ve had to jump out of her path so she wouldn’t slam into me because she was clearly not planning on going around me.   She’s twice my size.  It would hurt if she slammed into me.  I’ve been looking at books on a cart and she’s literally stepped in front of me and taken them away!  She has pushed some of my co-workers out of her way, and when an office door is closed, she just opens it without knocking and walks on in.

Pretty much everyone is annoyed by her rude behavior, and I have been elected to be the one who puts Princess Twattington in her place, but I don’t think I’m going to.

I think I’m going to wait for the girls in her college dorm to do it.  They’ll be far more cruel and punishing than I could ever be and so for now, I’m going to eat at my desk and avoid contact with her because really?

I’ve got my own princesses to discipline.  Speaking of, Girlfriend just shoved poor little Homeslice over and made her do a faceplant into a hardcover book she was looking at.

I’ve got to go kick some ass.

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23 comments

  1. My blood is boiling on your behalf. Seriously. I wouldn’t be able to cope. The boss would find Twattington crammed into the microwave.

    I’m violent today.
    .-= Ben’s last blog post… Dirty Laundry =-.

  2. Crissy, we should take our breaks in the Trustees room, it’s quiet, has comfy chairs and Princess Twattington will NEVER find us there! I’m disappointed that you aren’t going punch her in the neck or trip her or throw her Hot Pocket in the trash, though.

  3. The lunchist has a plan! People like Miss Twaddington make me want to cry because I can’t handle it when people don’t understand how horrible they are. And I don’t want them to touch me because I’m afraid it will rub off on me.

    Can’t you just have Mister bring the kids in and follow her around asking her incessant questions for an hour? And getting in her way and tripping her and well? I’m not good at plotting bad things. I’m just not.
    .-= k8’s last blog post… I Should Have Written Before I Cried =-.

  4. Glad you guys are all okay and dry up there. Sorry about the Twaddington. I can’t imagine. Although the other day, my MIL and I took the baby to the mall to pick up something MIL ordered. She forgot the stroller, so I carried baby in the car seat. Even though it was obvious that a 5’1″ girl is struggling with this bulky car seat and baby, folks were ramming into me – they weren’t moving two inches to the side when walking towards me, so I had to move. WITH A BIG CAR SEAT AND BABY. Rude. Made me sad and really pissed off.

    I like K8’s idea of having GF and HS follow her around asking 90 bajillion questions. Surely that will annoy her enough to avoid you – especially if you tell her for the rest of the week just how much the girls liked her and want to come see her again soon.

  5. i told my wife that she should wait for ms. annoy-o-tron to put her food in the microwave, and then, when it beeps, immediately pick up the microwave (which still contains her dinner) and throw it right the fuck across the room. then walk right up to the bitch and whisper “your food is ready.”

    i find people give you a wide berth if they think you’re gonna stab them.

  6. I totally love the idea of the kids and questions. She would probably run screaming from the library. OR she could turn nasty on the kids which would definitely earn her a stabbing. Or maybe next time she invades your space at the lunch table offer her some special chocolate, laced with exlax of course. Just make sure you guys don’t eat them.
    .-= Yankee’s last blog post… What Not to Wear Part II =-.

  7. Ms. Twattington must be the long lost runaway daughter of my college room mate, Suzy. This girl, oh this girl, was all those things you describe and more. Seeing that we attended a Pac Ten school with warm weather year round, this homunculous would slather herself in baby oil and lay by the pool for hours at a time. When her rotisserie chicken thighs were cooked she would come back into the apartment and microwave popcorn and chew it at a decibel level reserved for jack hammers and fog horns. She would then NOT shower the slick residue from her dermis, retire to the bedroom we unfortunately shared and read Judy Blume books while scarfing down the Mallomars she hid under the bed. I still have residual anger and I hope Twattington gets canned.
    .-= Dorothea’s last blog post… Once Upon A Time I Pegged My Jeans =-.

  8. Dude. She’s 17. You could teach her a life lesson. Just say something like, you need to work on your etiquette. Please be more aware of your surroundings and NEVER TOUCH MY FOOD. I remember that someone did something similar to me when I was that age. She said, “Sometimes you need to shut your mouth.” Taught me stuff, you know?
    .-= Melissa Lion’s last blog post… Body Dysmorphia =-.

  9. Miss Twattington sounds like a lot of fun.

    While I do like Your Pimp’s suggestion, if you’re not up for that, maybe you should just shower her with unsolicited acts of kindness. Like, why wait for the chance nasty book drop? Leave presents for her in the book drop every now and then. You know: used cat litter, roadkill, baby puke, condoms, etc. Also, order porn for her and have it delivered to the library and her dorm. While you’re at it, look online and order pot seeds from Amsterdam for her, maybe with some prescription drugs for STDs from India. And, of course, an ad on craigslist advertising her services never hurts, especially if you have both her phone number and her email address. It doesn’t have to be anything bad. Just something like, “Looking to meet other rude douchebags in my area. If you are utterly inconsiderate, have no table manners, and think you’re the only person on the face of the planet who matters, you’re just my kind of dude. Call or email so we can get together for some repugnant fun. Skinheads and teabaggers welcome.” Or rather than share her personal information — which she might not appreciate — you can always just tell people on craigslist to call the main library number and have her paged. That seems nicer.
    .-= stoogepie’s last blog post… Wings =-.

  10. Find a business etiquette book in your library and strongly but kindly suggest that she needs to give it a read. Although, I do have to say that having GF and HS follow her around and maybe have GF ask her inappropriate questions (I am fairly certain GF could handle that assignment) sounds like a nice way to deal with the issue, too.

  11. I really do like Pimps idea. That’s funny. Or you can just increase the amount of time that is on the microwave by like twenty five minutes. Scorching her food seems like a good idea
    .-= Rebecca’s last blog post… What On Earth =-.

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