My coworkers need a different outlet for their pent-up douchebaggery.
June 21st, 2018
My coworkers are desperate to be assholes to someone. They can't go on about Combover Caligula's Concentration Camp Cavalcade, because they don't want to sound like the shitgobbling Nazis they really are, so they've got to quibble about something. Enter everyone's favorite Obnoxious Jerk. Having nothing else they can shit out their mouth, everyone has felt the need to whine about my clothes.
For reference, I wore my orange shorts today, since they're the last clean pair that I have handy, not having run laundry yet this week, and a comfy orange shirt. Apparently, my orange clothing, something I have worn time and time again over my last six years while working in this death trap, is so objectionable that just about everybody has had to flap their jaws about it. All day long.
I literally lost count of all the times someone has had to come up to me and say "Hey, I couldn't see you there!", "Going hunting?", or Turn it down, already!". I eventually gave up on quiet chuckles and quick comments in an effort to keep the peace, and was reduced to simply saying "HA. HA. HA." as it occurred. And despite me making it clear that I'm tired of their shit, they just kept at it.
Sorry my wardrobe doesn't meet your exacting standards, lady who wears twenty year old classic rock tour shirts four times too large for your shriveled up frame. Apologies that my shirt isn't as cool as yours, guy who's been in the same cargo pants throughout the entire month of June. And I'll try not to wear these shorts again, lady whose ass is about to explode out of those pants that are way too small for you.