So when you work in the financial area of things, you tend to get buried and reside in the year prior, the month prior, if you’re lucky the week prior of time. I finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel… we’re finally closing January… OF THIS YEAR!! and be damned if I didn’t go “What the fuck do you mean its April, when did that happen?”
So… yeah. That’s my last few months in a nutshell. But I don’t want to talk about that.
I want to talk about junk.
I want to talk about the different relationship men and women have with their junk.
Here’s a little history….
I have a co-worker who, every time he has to come to my desk, seems to have this compulsion to touch his junk, shift, pull some rogue underwear from his butt, whatev. I’m never shaking this man’s hand, is what I’m saying.
The fact his junk is level with my face while I’m sitting at a desk makes this blaringly obvious and I catch myself having to pull away from my internal dialog of potentially starched underwear or a thong to listen to what he is asking me enough to not make it obvious I’m staring at him playing with his junk. It’s bad enough I’ve considered researching underwear and suggesting a replacement.
I thought it was just him.
BUT THEN!… yet another co-worker came by and he too, talking as commonly as people do about the weather, got a good ol’ dig in the crotch and shifted things around in my face before he left.
My female co-workers were horrified by my vivid descriptions and speculations. This just would never occur to them to re-align the ta-ta’s during a work conversation, or bust out with a solid crotch scratch.
Even if their super maxi pad was completely upside down and superglued to a mangled bush, they would rather slowly and tearfully try to duck into a bathroom while trying to pry it off in silence, than make any motion to their genital area while in the presence of others, most especially co-workers.
I’m almost wondering now if this is some sort of prehistoric subliminal challenge.
Are they trying to say their dick is bigger?
They are in departments that are often butting heads with mine since no one likes to deal with any department that can say you do a shitty job, and then pull a shitload of numbers to prove it.
I’m still considering keeping underwear at my desk to hand out to those poor souls who may iron starch in their crotch-holders, or think thongs are sexy until they have that conversation with a proctologist. Boxer briefs maybe? Cotton to breathe… that sounds nice.
As for the sausage fest… they will just have to understand….
My dick is ALWAYS bigger.