The Loudmouth

I’ve already told you about TFB at work. I haven’t told you about the loudmouth.

Yes, boys and girls, we have one of those people who never learned the difference between the outside voice and the inside voice. Every place is outside to her and she’ll yell out her conversation for the entire schoolyard to hear.

I suppose if we weren’t all sitting in half-cubicles, her voice might get a bit muffled, but with the seating the way it is there (which looks like one of those telemarketing firms with everyone jammed together), sound seems to carry across the floor.

However, with that said, no one else on the floor seems to need the world to hear about their cousin’s ingrown toenail, or the electrolysis they had done before they switched to laser, or even the ever popular ‘irritable bowel syndrome’.

I’ve been told that she’s a very nice woman. I just find her a crass and classless boob. Maybe she’s nice but I will never know, because I don’t want anything to do with her. I’ve gone so far as to ask TFB for a place far, far and away when our offices move to another floor. Even with that, I’d probably still hear her. Thank God I’m in meetings half the time.

What is it with these people who think that everyone will be enthralled with what they have to say? I need attention… listen to me. And for those of you in the back seats, I’ll speak loudly so you can hang on my every word.

Every day, in between the boring crap I’m doing, my secondary thought for the day is: shut the fuck up.