Why, if I am typing furiously and looking stressed, do you stand and wait for me to finish so that you can request an order of more coffee beans? And if I say, “I can type and listen, feel free to speak”, why do you reply with, “Oh no, I can wait.”
I don’t want to stop for you.
Why do people always stand in-between the two automatic doors, making them open, close, open, close, open, close, and send all the papers flying from my desk in the wind? Make a decision, people. In or out.
Why is it that those with the highest salary and position appear to do the least amount of work? Is it because they fought their way to get there? Or because they have so many minions?
I’m sorry, why can’t you photocopy? You’re just standing there chatting about the weekend, drinking your coffee. Oh I’m sorry, do I have Konica stamped on my forehead?
No, giving me something half an hour before your deadline is just fine. I have all the time in the world. No really, I’ll drop everything. Just for you.
Why do new staff get greeted with a “welcome aboard”? Are we on the Love Boat now? Where’s Isaac? I need a drink.