No rhyming, eh?
No rhyming, eh?
I had a few in the office before lockdown - people who’d be trying to microwave their lunch at the same time as me. If i saw them in the canteen it was a race
Anyone else with my same first name. Except dingers obvs.
Course not Laverne …she’s SO COOL. I could never compete, lesser Lauren’s though…grrrrrrr
Tbf I’m the same with other noticeably very tall people.
the girls in my office are low key nemeses with the people working at the main company in our building - slightly hipstery, slightly conservative, health-obsessed people who were all policing each others’ lunches for perceived nutritional value. one of them commented negatively on the nutritional value of my co-worker’s lunch (I can’t remember what it was but it certainly wasn’t like, a chocolate pizza) which is completely fucking unacceptable and another made a really, really weird comment to me in the bathroom where I think she might have insinuated I was a lesbian but it was really odd wording so she might just have been insinuating I was quirky.
in the 'rona era there are like 3 people in their main office per day and they play shit, shit music at a million decibels and act all shocked when we ask them to turn it down because it’s making the floor vibrate; when I did it two guys stared at me like I was an alien for even asking. luckily the girl there was like “no problem!” and turned it down immediately.
also they kept booking out the whole kitchen area (which has tables and benches, table tennis and then a bigger seating area with loads of cushions and bean bags) for very loud company presentations and we weren’t allowed in there. absolute knobhead behaviour.
had some really bad ones in the past but don’t think I’ve had any since moving abroad - must be an Anglo thing
Probably my own overwhelming sense of self-doubt
would love to hear this one if you’re comfortable sharing
Oooh, that’s a good shout. But only men with my first name for some reason. Whereas @froglet and others are excellent
When I was working shifts in a call centre and living in me dad and mum’s house there was this lady of approx 60 with a really mean sharp face that got on the same train as me who I’d always encounter. She used to shoot me daggers a lot, like a lightning quick glance of “Come close and I’ll stab!” that made my veins run icy. She dressed always only in black, but every day of the year she dressed like it was the height of summer (and I don’t know if you’ve been to Salford but it is never the height of summer let me tell you). Always had shopping bags as well, like plain black bags for life that she’d filled with shopping. Pretty much every day it was, who’s got that kind of money? Villains!
My shifts meant I’d be getting the train to work in late morning or home in early afternoon, so the train was always p much empty and only a few people would get out at my stop. She was always on the same fucking train, no word of a lie. I could tell from her aura she was right evil as well.
The main reason why she was my nemesis tho is because we got off at the same stop, and I’d honed over many years the fine art of an insanely fast power walk. Not a run, oh no my friend, a walk to be sure, but quick like you’ve never seen. It was pretty much a walk that went the speed of a sprint, quite a thing to behold. I wasn’t going to waste a second longer than necessary walking to that train station. A 25 minute walk it was considered by everybody else in the house, I was making it in 11.
Anyway, I’d get off the train, adopt the power walk, then notice out of the corner of my eye an object moving at lightning speed. It was her. But at least one foot on the ground at all times, and that’s a walk, not a run. She’d got her own fucking power walk, the speed rivalled mine, how can that be? So we’d race up the stairs out of the station, each on the opposite side, never looking across at one another, each vying to pull ahead, always neck and neck. Then we’d get out onto the street and we’d walk down the same residential street for roughly half a mile. I’d walk on the pavement on one side, she’d walk - get this - in the middle of the goddamn road! When a car came she’d switch to the opposite pavement to me, but she knew full well she was asserting her chaos energy by walking in the road. Never was there a clear victor in our races, always neck and neck.
This reminds me a bit of my old neighbour. She was nice enough, had some peculiar ways but who doesn’t? If you talked to her for any length of time though, things had a tendency to get weird. One time she suddenly looked really upset and said “I don’t know who else to tell, but if you take Jessica, Ian, Holly*, Allah and (D-something, forgotten) it spells JIHAD”, and she burst into tears. I’m afraid I rather gaped at her.
*Of the Soham murders, this was a few years later.
Oh god I have so many I don’t know where to start listing
Press to honk?
Do you remember that BBC kids show Elidor? There was a bit where the kids get haunted on a tram in Manchester that really scared me. She was probably a similar phenomenon.
Me also (tall people, not Lauren’s) - I worked hard to get to 6’4 and I’m dammed if some other bastard is going to get the attention.
Where I did my PhD, the head of the institute had a project in mind for me but I didn’t fancy it and did something else. He didn’t seem that bothered at the time, but never turned up to any of my talks and would only respond with a grunt if I said ‘hello’ to him from that point onwards. At least he kept it low-key as his seniority meant that he was very much in a position to destroy me if he wanted to. Weird behaviour for a knight of the realm though.
My experience with all academics thus far has been that they’re kind of afraid of me, and I would like to keep it that way