Poetry Forum

Mari' - all messages by user

3/8/2017 12:28:11 PM
What's Curvaceous?	I’ve been called curvaceous, but I’m not sure how to take that. Is it a compliment to be worn proudly or does it mean I should pull out the old running shoes and find my membership card to the gym? I gotta wonder what men think when they see the famous paintings of nudes by the impressionists like Rubens or Botticelli. I guess full-figured women were really the rage then (gee, if that’s the case maybe I could have graced their calendar as Miss March!) I could just hear them now “Hey Sandro, get a load of the rolls on this one!” Curves were supposedly a sign of wealth and stature. Well, if one is voluptuous, as in ‘fatter-than-the-baby-Jesus’ voluptuous, I think I was born in the wrong century. I guess it doesn’t really matter how much a person weighs because 170 lbs. on one person may look totally different on someone else. I considered it downright intimidating when I went to an amusement park for instance, and the carnie said, “I’ll guess your weight for a dollar.” (When the guy got it right I wanted my money back.) Women shouldn’t worry so much about weight, but, whether you say it or not, it’s probably always in the back of our minds. We need to learn to be happy with who we are-not how much we weigh or how tall or short we are. Still, I don’t know where the term curvaceous came from, but I’d venture to say it’s Latin for ‘you’ve had enough pie.’
3/8/2017 4:28:49 PM
Toothache	I think a toothache has to be one of the most painful things imaginable! I'm a mother of four, so, childbirth aside, toothaches take a close second. There have been times when I was in such excruciating pain from a bad tooth I would gladly trade places with a woman in the delivery room at that second. (Of course, when I was having an actual baby, I'd opt for the toothache.) What do people that live all over the globe in third world countries or in the deepest jungles of the Amazon or on the dry, uninhabitable plains of Africa DO when they get a toothache? Whenever I see a picture of the bushmen, they're usually smiling...of course they usually have no teeth. All the gels, creams, pastes, swabs and pain relievers in the world won't make a dent when that tooth decides to go full force with its nerve shattering pain. Imagine being stranded on a desert island. Man, I think the scariest part for me wouldn't be whether or not I forgot to pack my makeup case (although that would be pretty scary), but rather, being stuck on an island with a toothache. Yeah the guy that wrote Castaway really knew how to get the audience to relate first hand with Tom Hanks who suffered mercilessly with a toothache, until he decided to smack it out with a rock and the blade of an ice skate. Those in the dental profession really "have us by the teeth" when it comes to this dilemma. If you're not fortunate enough to have great insurance for preventive care and can only rely on your own brushing and flossing techniques, I venture to say you're going to pay out the nose for your teeth! I never understood why if I had two cavities, they couldn't be filled at the same time. No. I had to pay for another office call just so they could tell me what I already knew. If they couldn't or wouldn't perform an extraction, the procedure suddenly became "oral surgery", which kicked it up into a totally different category (price included.) Of course, the most painful part of the whole process for me is getting the bill. Now THERE'S some pain!
3/9/2017 8:29:25 PM
Sending soup mail	Hey I tried sending a reply to a message that was in the inbox (I clicked the select box), replied and did the captcha? but when I typed that in and hit send, I didnt' see anything indicating that it was sent ?? Should there be another message to Select under my original one?
3/11/2017 7:18:04 PM
Sending soup mail	oh cool thank you
4/15/2017 8:41:58 AM
What's Curvaceous?	It's funny how different a man's opinion from a woman's is when it comes to this topic!!
5/17/2017 4:10:18 AM
Ca-Ching	Thank you for reading!
5/17/2017 5:50:04 AM
Reputation number	Hey I was just wondering what the number next to 'Reputation' means when I click on my name here?
5/17/2017 8:19:41 PM
Word of the Day J O B	I am very fortunate to have a job that I love. I actually look forward to getting up and going to work every day, which is not so true for millions of other Americans. It took several tries and a few different job interviews to finally settle on the best fit for me. I think finding a job is only half the battle, but to me definitely the hardest half. I recall several years ago one interview in particular. I was applying for a job as a CRA (Computer Reference Assistant.) Now I had no business even trying for this. I had no clue what a Computer Reference Assistant even was. I was a stay at home mom for almost twelve years and so out of touch with the newest technology, I hadn't realized that even the language of the office had changed. Words like keypunch, shorthand and typewriter were now virtually non-existent. As I sat anxiously awaiting my turn in the HR 'hot seat", there were several other applicants as well, all sitting around in their smart pin-striped suits, poring over their iPhones and pocket organizers. As I thumbed nervously through the Annual Business Report (like I really knew what any of that meant anyway) it hit me like a rock. I began to feel the true terror of making myself out to be the biggest idiot they'd ever seen! I thought about making a beeline for the door, but the tall, ominous paintings of the company's founders and CEO towered over me like guards. That's it! I thought. I couldn't go through with it. I had no idea what I was doing and I needed to make a run for it. I stood up, ready to leave when my name was called. I was ushered in by a slender, very professional looking receptionist. She offered me a beverage and I humbly accepted the bottled water to appease the growing lump in my throat. First I was to take a sampler test to see what knowledge if any, I had about computer technology. I sat down, wrung my hands and opened the booklet. The question on the first page read "in which port does the mouse go in?" I stared blankly at the page for what seemed like hours. I slowly lifted my pencil and scribbled "whichever one has the cheese." I took my book to the tester and sat down in front of him. He asked me several computer-y type questions: "Do you know what cell merging in a spreadsheet means? Can you create a Power Point presentation? Can you write a program?" After shaking my head NO several times, he finally asked "what is it that you CAN do?" I looked up with some sense of pride and declared 'well-l-l, I can diaper a baby in less than 30 seconds!" My excitement took a nosedive when he asked me to close the door quietly on my way out. I guess the moral to this story is, be true to yourself. Don't try be something you're not. For instance, don't apply for the job of a doctor if your only medical experience was playing Operation with your little brother.
6/11/2017 10:55:57 AM
Ca-Ching	re: Ca-Ching Thx for reading, Melissa!
7/1/2017 5:45:57 PM
NASA	Lanzarote Cowboy wrote: I wonder if anyone at NASA ever said, "Come on it's not rocket science"
7/1/2017 5:46:25 PM
NASA	haha!!!! Good one!
8/21/2017 8:56:02 PM
So Much For Being Missed	How many times have your kids made you feel like running away from home? I love my children and grandchildren dearly, but there are those times when I wished for once I could just start walking and never look back. If you're an honest parent, I think some soul searching may find that you have felt that way at one time or another too. Well, one day I decided to do just that - to abandon everything and everyone; to just start walking and not look back. I was feeling sad, worthless and unappreciated. My house was a mess and the kids were fighting relentlessly as my husband laid sprawled across the couch eating potato chips. The crumbs that didn't get lodged in his beard tumbled endlessly to the floor. Once in a while I would catch him in a half smile, gazing longingly at me. I remember him looking at me that way when we were first going together. It was that sort of look one gives someone when they are completely mesmerized by their whole entire being. They want to embrace the totality of their beauty, their body and soul. Now that look just meant he wanted me to get him a beer. As I tossed a can at him (just missing his head) I grabbed my jacket and flung it over my shoulders. Heading out the back door, my footsteps slapped hard against the concrete. Brisk and determined, I didn't know where I was going but I was going to get there nevertheless. I kept muttering to myself softly, "They'll be sorry. Let's see if they even notice I'm gone. Yeah, they'll notice when they get hungry or want me to get their toy out from under the couch." At the end of the road was a little grove. It had some trees that were mangled and huddled together as if trying to hide from the rest of the world. I walked around them and sat underneath the thickest part. It was quiet and cozy, just like my own little refuge. I sat for what seemed like hours. At first it was wonderful! I blew on a dandelion and watched as it floated lazily across the grass. I looked for four-leaf clovers, played with a ladybug and even took a catnap against the stump of an old elm tree. I was thoroughly enjoying the well earned solitude of my new found haven. Soon I began to realize my family may not even know I'm gone. If they did, were they worried? Were they looking for me? I began to get this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. How long had I been out here? What if they aren't even concerned? I mean, I wanted solace and all that but gee, don't they even miss me? I thought I should just stop acting silly and get myself back home, when all at once I heard some faint footsteps. They sounded like they were coming from a small child. They were rapid and frantic footsteps. It had to be one of the kids looking desperately for their mother; their rock and their entire reason for existing! The footsteps grew louder as my heart beat faster. I was grinning with the heartfelt satisfaction that someone indeed missed and cared for me. It was my son running towards the trees. "Over here!" I yelled and waved my arms. For a moment I felt as though we were in a beautiful novel. I couldn't wait to hold and kiss him and hear his cute 'little lisp' as he sang praises to me...me, the prodigal mother returning home. He ran up to me and stopped abruptly, putting his hands on his hips as he tapped his foot and said "Oh, HERE* you are mom! I thought you wuthz gonna fixths me sthum Tang!"*
9/7/2017 1:37:15 PM
THE FEWLY APPRECIATED	Hi - in response to this question,Could it be that the poems on Poetrysoup are going out all over, so maybe it's people who are reading them that are NOT on Poetrysoup and don't wish to sign up ?? Whenever someone reads it from another place on the web, does that count as a view too? I guess that would be more for one of the staff members to answer since I'm not sure what the process is. If that's the case though, it would make more sense. edited by Mari' on 9/7/2017
10/31/2017 12:33:21 PM
Happy Almost Halloween!	Happy almost Halloween all you poets! Hey, I'm all for the little one's having a good time, although I still think one needs to design their children's costumes out of their winter coats. Here in Colorado, it always seems to snow hard on the festive night. This year (the year I wrote this) it falls on a Thursday, which means Friday is gonna be a difficult one for school teachers~what with all the kids bouncin' off the walls from "massive sugar overload."I used to stay in and hand out the goodies, but I was the one in the neighborhood that actually doled out toothbrushes or cheese sticks. Needless to say, I wasn't the most well liked amongst the kiddies! I remember Halloween was a little different when I lived in Scotland. There the children received mostly apples and nuts. (hmpph!! and these kids whine about my cheese sticks?) I guess it was keeping with tradition when the adults were offered a drink at each house they went to. A nip of brandy here, shot of whiskey there. Man! By the time I reached the fourth house, I was smashed! I staggered up to the door and said "Trickur treet!... ' an' make it a Double" This year I decided I'd go around with my grandchildren. I hope they'll not be too scared. (They've seen me without my makeup so they should be good to go. ) I've never been real big on Halloween, mostly because I just don't want to bother with the festivities of carving pumpkins and decorating. I hate anything pumpkin and can't really handle the smell of apple cider. I suppose I should try and get into the groove of things for the sake of my grandkids though. I guess dressing up as a tired, worn out mother of four just doesn't have the horror it used to have. I've overdone it I suppose. Nah, I really need to rev up the Scare tactic. I know! Maybe I'll hang my Credit Report in my front window~ that oughtta do it.
12/9/2017 1:20:13 PM
Go To Your Room	Go To Your Room Years ago before social media, I tried recalling how grown ups in our generation handled disagreements. Today one can argue a point with memes and emojis, and even publicly 'shame' a total stranger with the mere push of a button. It reminded me of the time I went to a neighbor's house for a BBQ. While us kids played on the swing set, the grownups chatted over hot dogs, hamburgers, sodas and alcoholic beverages - those SAME alcoholic beverages that seemed to cause the conversation to intensify in volume and scope. Two of our neighbors started talking rather loudly. Then one put his finger in the other one's face. As spit flew from his mouth the other neighbor screamed "you just spit on me!" Both men stood up and postured in the stance of a boxer. As children, we were naturally curious to see where this was going to go. Would Mr. Garza get punched in the nose by Mr. Sands? Would the mothers start shrieking and pulling each other's hair out? Before we could find out we heard those ever famous words "kids, go to your rooms." That was the indication that the conversation had crossed the line of politeness and the fists could start flying at any moment. ...fast forward 50 years: As I scroll down and read various political pieces, it seems what starts off as an intelligent conversation,ends up derailed in a 'train wreck' of flamboyant curse words and insults. The first guy says his opinion and the next guy comments. This goes back and forth in a sort of not-so-polite tension until about 4 or 5 comments in - (enter THIS guy) : 'y'all are stupid idiots!' Your not even in that part of the world." One of the commenters replies "It's YOU'RE not YOUR - now whose the idiot?" A new person joins the conversation: "It's who's NOT whose, your both idiots!" The first guy that started the conversation now chimes in -"I think you mean YOU'RE not YOUR." She answers: "** all you guys! your all unintelijunt" Who invited this hoe to our conversation?" another one asks. " you, you ** you don't know me!" she snaps. I've come to the conclusion that the discourteous way in which humans treat each other hasn't changed , only the method in which we convey it. Now if you'll excuse me I think I'll go to my room. edited by Mari' on 12/9/2017
1/4/2018 4:32:16 AM
Managing poetry list	If I arrange my poems in a certain order, for instance, oldest to newest etc.. is that the way the public will see them as well?
1/22/2018 9:46:12 AM
Allergic To Life	Allergic to Life A few months ago I began to develop a rash. It started on my ribs and was so intensely itchy I felt like I was wearing a coat of steel wool! I’ve always had allergies in one form or another. My earliest memories were of me being thrown into the car and rushed to the hospital after a bee sting. As I grew into adulthood, asthma seemed to dominate my life. I just assumed this was to be part of my fate, my genetics if you will. Years passed and my asthma was well controlled and allergies seemed to stay within their proper seasons. Then came “the rash”. A rash is a frustrating thing because its cause is rarely identified right away. As the weeks went by I found myself thrust into the daunting task of seemingly endless detective work… My first trip to the doctor yielded no real relief. Shingles was ruled out (that’s what I was thinking it was) so I was handed some cream and told to change my laundry detergent and bath products. Two tubes of topical ointment later I was still itching; itching so badly I had actually scabbed and scarred my skin in places. The rash had spread; I couldn’t sleep and couldn’t concentrate. Every object I looked at turned into a ‘fantasy scratching post.’ Antihistamines just made me drowsy, so not only was I itchy but now I was too tired to scratch! I’d gone through countless lotions, antihistamines, cortisone creams, oatmeal baths and even did a stint of oral steroids - all to no avail.Every night I scoured the internet hoping for answers. My searches included ‘I feel like I’m wearing a wool sweater”, “I itch so much I’m going insane”,and “why does my skin feel like I’m sleeping on thorns?” I was surprised to see how many had the same sort of symptoms, yet sadly no one seemed to have a real answer. Everything from gluten intolerance to stress was suspected, even bug bites and toxic overload were tossed in - and with all came hopes of relief from soda baths and homemade remedies. My mother insisted it was stress but I said if that were the case I should have had a rash the last 30 years! If it were bites of some sort I’m sure other family members would have been affected. It just didn’t make any sense. The following month I decided to go to an actual dermatologist. She was not certain what it was either so she ordered a biopsy which came back as ‘non-fungal /hypersensitivity of unknown origin’. This time I was given another sort of cream and told to start a food diary. By now I looked as though I had survived a swim in a live volcano. My skin was pitted and scarred with sporadic patches of red bumps and blisters. I couldn’t bear to wear anything tight against my skin and was hesitant to eat anything for fear of another itch attack. I’d get out of the car and the skin where the seatbelt had touched was laden with hives. Everything I touched would break me out. I was getting to where I couldn’t touch anything at work without the telltale itching and redness, and to make matters worse it was now starting to affect my asthma again. An inhaler that lasted me up to a year was now being used several times a day. I had already had this rash for two months and the changes to fragrance free laundry soap, body wash and lotions hadn’t made a dent. I was now very depressed. The only relief came from a deep sleep which some antihistamines seemed to offer but I couldn’t go on this way! I couldn’t function in my day to day tasks. I had to find out why all of a sudden I’d developed this horrid rash and where it came from. I had no pets and no heavy carpets, drapes or endless nic-nacs that required dusting on a regular basis; I hadn’t been taking any new medications and I tore down my brand new bed and inspected it thoroughly for any signs of bedbugs. I made a‘gluten free’ grocery list and even threw away all my clothes that didn’t bear the 100% cotton tag. ( I had read somewhere that some of our clothing is processed with formaldehyde.) Formaldehyde! Imagine that. I’m severely allergic to formaldehyde – and latex – and nickel – and apparently nylon. My mattress was memory foam which too was apparently doused with chemicals. I had gone several months without eating bread or cereal, rice, or pasta of any kind.Could it be the reintroduction of gluten into my diet that caused this flare? I am now on my third month with this rash and am still in search of relief. I know we live in such a dirty, clogged and polluted world I may never find the cause. I suppose the only conclusion I can draw from all of this is I must be allergic - to LIFE!
2/22/2018 6:13:11 PM
Workin' Is For Chumps!	There’s nothing like kickin’ back and puttin’ your feet up in a nice, clean house — or so I’ve heard. Face it, when you have kids and grandkids, the idea of a clean home may be nothing short of an unattainable dream. It would be great if our homes really looked like the ones on television. Those people always had tons of children running around too, but their homes were always spotless. Now granted, one had a live-in maid, one had a husband that washed the dishes in an apron and one even wiggled her nose to get her house to look beautiful. Whenever I’d do a weekend cleaning from top to bottom (and believe it or not that really did happen on occasion), I would tell friends and family if they wanted to see the house clean, they would need to come for a “proof viewing” no earlier than 11 a.m. on Saturday morning and no later than 9 p.m. on Sunday night. I was not responsible for the state of my home any time outside of those hours. Whenever I watched reality shows of police bursting into criminals’ homes unannounced, all I could think about was how horrified I would be — not so much because a cop just busted down my door or that I may be facing jail time, but the fact that a television camera was filming my dirty house for the entire world to see! When I went back to work full time and my children were all still young, I considered asking a woman to come in and help me out one day a week just to keep on top of the work, but I was too embarrassed. I would have to hire a maid before I’d let a cleaning woman see this mess! Whenever I had more than one small child running around at a time I would usually wait until they took their naps to attempt a cleanup of the toys. After cleaning up millions of Legos, there was always that one toy that made just enough noise to wake the slumbering children. They would sit up, look around and observe the clean room. One by one they’d get up and make a bee line for the toy box. A clean room to a child is like a clean litter box to a cat. It somehow jumpstarts the auto-mess in their brains and they’re compelled to make a shambles of your just-cleaned masterpiece. It took years for me to realize that, according to a child, toys do not belong in the toy box. (That goes for plastics in the cupboard and folded clothes in the laundry basket too). Now that the kids are older and have children of their own, they see what a chore it is to try and keep up with the housework. All the years of me trying to keep up on something that was literally impossible, I can say with a good conscience that I gave it my best shot. I just couldn’t do it and it only got worse when my kids got older. I think teenagers are sometimes worse to clean up after than toddlers. I will admit I don’t go without blame here. My room and car are always a total mess. It’s sort of a rite of passage for a creative mind and, well, at least it’s MY mess. If everyone were responsible for their own messes, I guess I wouldn’t have such a problem with it. That could be why a lot of us women watch so much television. We want to escape the reality of our own messy abodes so we fantasize about the spotless homes of the movie stars. On the other hand, maybe my house would be spotless if I got myself off the couch and actually DID something!
3/4/2018 6:04:37 PM
Job Hunt Gone Bad	As I am no stranger to the economy crunch, I decided to get a second job so that I could buy the certain luxuries my family has not grown up with ( i.e. food, dental care and name brand shampoo.) Being as I'm not in my prime earning years anymore, I figured it might be tough to just get out there and snag up a job like my younger counterparts. I decided to try the fast food joints first. They're always willing to give a new person a break whether you're smart or a high school dropout - or just plain HIGH! Heck, you don't even have to speak english most of the time! Just smile, nod alot and toss in a bag of fries which is pretty much a given on any order. Unfortunately, I did not last three days. I got tired of the younger kids making me dodge the cars in the drive thru as I picked up the loose change, or pinning a sign on my back that read "kick me I'm OLD", or telling me that Johnny Depp was out back and locking me out of the building when I went to see. Finally I thought ....'hmm I'm smarter than this. I can do something else.".. I went to see my friend who owns a strip bar. Ofcourse! I thought, I can dance at his club. Well, after much begging (and about six shots of bourbon,) I finally conned my friend into letting me try to dance. In the beginning I was alittle intimidated by the beautiful girls that danced (some topless) and such beautiful costumes too (what little there was of them.) I started to climb on the pole and my friend told me I had to go to the 'over forty' table in the back. It was really dark back there and instead of a pole I had to use a walker that one of the patrons had left. I guess it wasn't too bad even though the song they had me dance to was "Don't Show Me That". I guess the final straw came when some guy went and complained that my left "tassle' kept sagging into his drink. Last I thought, I would try the phone sex thing but it kindof lost it's charm when you could hear my granddaughter in the background crying for more juice. Oh well, I tried. Maybe I'll hit the lottery tomorrow. I bought one scratch ticket and won a buck. Now I just need to do that a million more times. edited by Mari' on 3/4/2018
3/7/2018 12:19:22 PM
To the Fans of THE OFFICE Only	I just love the show “the Office”. I think this show took off because so many can relate to that person in their own lives. Maybe we’ve all come across these personality types before- perhaps we can even see ourselves in them. (If you’ve never seen the show, you probably won’t be able to relate to this mini- series of blogs.) Jim: Jim is extremely likable. He makes friends wherever he goes. This is the type person who has 800 friends on fb, and not because they just befriend random people..they actually know them all. Jim attracts people like magnets- especially women. I call these people the ‘Jack Blacks’ because they have that same charisma and charm. Still, it’s very hard to get a moment with them because they are so popular. When ya finally do get some time, they talk to you as if you were the only one on earth; good eye contact, and just a genuine, warm, caring person. I just adore the Jims of the world! Try and imagine being in a sexual relationship with Jim. He would probably be on the phone or have an audience waiting for him to get done! It would take a strong woman to be able to handle his popularity. I guess ‘rock star status would be accurate when describing this sort of person. Angela There are a few Angelas in my office…both men and women. These are the ones that, if you didn’t initiate a conversation or say ‘hello’ to them, they would never talk to ya. They like to be alone,don’t socialize, don’t like to converse in the break room with others, keep their doors closed at all times, eat lunch by themselves and never go for happy hour after work. If you try and befriend them you’re wasting your time. I have often said hello to these people in the hall or tried to make small talk at the water cooler. They’re not havin’ it! They would just assume stick a book in their face to shield themselves from ya. They always keep you guessing as to if they even like you. You find yourself saying “ Is it just ME or do they genuinely dislike everyone?” Kelly I think every office has a Kelly. This is the person that talks your ear off! (You don’t dare ask her how she’s doing, she just might tell ya.) She’s open with her life; telling you every detail of her sexual encounter with the guy she met in the bar last night. Another thing about Kelly... she’s not the most tactful. She is the one that will always ask you the most intimate questions via your fb page.“Was that you throwing up in the bathroom at work today? Are you okay?” She always seems to find you too-Wherever you may be hiding! Still, I think I would much rather have the Kellys in my life than the Angelas. They are usually very genuine and sweet. Just don’t ask them to speak at the board meeting. Todd Packer Ugh! If the world never held onto these people, I don’t think it would be so bad. These are the annoying, loud, obnoxious, irritating attention whores that were put in my life to test my love for human beings! Luckily I don’t know too many of these people. I just tend to shy away from them and I can pick ‘em out of a crowd. (The two that I do know don’t seem to like me.) Perhaps they can sense that disdain I feel for a person that thrives on embarrassing or humiliating somebody with words. These were most likely the bullies in school. They have few friends because they sabotage any potential relationships they can have by opening their mouths!! Phyllis The Peacemaker. I love these people. They are usually easy to talk to, willing to participate and take on jobs no one wants. They’re family oriented and have scads of pictures of the grandchildren tacked up in their cubicles along with plants and posters’ that say ‘Have a Nice Day.” Being the willing organizers that they are, they usually bring the greatest dishes to the potluck - then they’ll even stay and clean everything up afterwards. Unfortunately, these poor people usually get taken advantage of and end up turning into Angelas. Michael Totally clueless, very friendly and always in life for a good time. They are petty, immature and can be easily distracted with anything shiny! If these people are in management, you gotta wonder who they slept with to get the job because they have no idea what they’re doing. Creed These are the stoner’s of the working world. They come to work only because they have to, show up late, leave early and call in sick every Monday. They do as little work as possible and try and shortcut their entire day. These people are rarely on the same page as everyone else. Sometimes scandalous, these are the ones that will take home office supplies or steal toilet paper from the washroom for their own personal use. (They usually have the best music to listen to though). Pam Here’s a person that you would like to get to know, but no matter how nice you are to them you’re never really a part of their circle. They have their specific friends and that’s it. Again if you don’t initiate conversation, they probably won’t take it upon themselves to talk first. If you do say hi, they are friendly enough. They never let you into their lives even though it seems they have exciting ones. They’re well liked amongst the Jims of the office, and surprisingly, the Todd Packers too. These are the ones that are difficult to find flaws in. They’re pretty or handsome, have nice bodies and seem to be the most popular. You just can’t seem to find what it is that makes them ‘tick’ Stanley Boy if grouchy had a poster child, this would be the Stanleys . They don’t want to be bothered with anything. They’re here to work and that is it. These folks will NEVER volunteer to do anything unless they’re being paid for it. They are no nonsense people that refuse to share anything including their time, work area or parking space. They want the coffee a certain way, always take the crossword puzzle from the paper and are generally very inconsiderate. As far as I’m concerned, these people can go have lunch with Angela. Oscar Oscar is the all around “get along with everybody” sorta guy. He’s non confrontational, can be a good conversationalist and is the one that you can count on for help if you jam the copier. He’s usually the first one to show up at happy hour. He takes things in stride and doesn’t really rock the "workforce boat". He sometimes has a secret life so don’t be surprised if you find him getting fired for all that porn on his computer! Dwight This is the ultimate " go by the book" Barney Fife employee. He's always on time, has the cleanest desk and is the most ergonomically correct person in the office. He will not hesitate to inform the supervisor if you have a picture of a waterfall on your desktop instead of the company logo. He is the company watchdog and usually a favorite among the bigwigs because of his ‘eagle eye’ ability to sniff out the slackers. ( For this reason he rarely gets invited to join the others for drinks after work) . Kevin Kevins are just kind of there. They don’t really contribute in any way but don’t cause trouble either. You often wonder what it is in life that they find interesting. Usually these people don’t have hobbies, a love life or anything they consider to be worth living for. They can tell you however, everything that was on television the night before. *Meredith Ahh yes, the office ‘skank! She’s done everyone once and makes it well known that she will do whatever it takes to get a promotion. This is a person (I’m sayin’ a girl for the sake of my story) that will hit on your man when he comes to take you for lunch. She’s always in the break room when the vending machine man comes, always near the copier when the repair tech is there and is constantly putting on makeup at her desk. If she’s not on her phone, she’s surfing the web. At happy hour she drinks the most, talks the loudest and stays the longest. Her cubicle is adorned with coupons from “Hooter’s, photos of herself in her underwear and beads from the Jerry Springer show. ...so ? which one are YOU?
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