My life at work (and other tragedies)

As a single Pakistani girl in my mid twenties, working in a typical (read male dominated) Pakistani organization, I feel I have acquired a level of patience I never believed possible. Usually, I’m not one for “male bashing” but drastic times call for.. well, an angsty post.

Here’s what you need to know about my workplace: I wasn’t kidding about male dominated. Ratio of men: women is approx 25:1. Anyway without further ado, introducing:

Specimen A: Mr. Bossmanyessirofcoursesir (henceforth referred to as Mr. B)

Aim in life: Have all the women in the department (grand total: 3) know what a total bitch his wife is, and score sympathy points.

Strategy:

Assign cryptic task

a) She rushes to your office to say wtf? Excellent, time to waste her time.

b) Not so much? Notch up the level of bullshit, and repeat until she does.

I feel for you Mrs. B. And hey, if you need an axe.. just saying.

Specimen B: Pimply Mc. Burpy

Usually, I wouldn’t make fun of anyone’s acne issues..except when that person is a 40 year old man who spits when he talks, scratches his face and beard, and worse, burps while talking to you. As a result though, I have mastered the art of fading into my happy place on demand. *Hmm, shoes*

Specimen C: Mr. Porno

If you think it’s unbelievable that a 28 year old guy reads Harlequin romances at work, prepare to be astounded. After I rejected his offer to forward me a copy of “How Mary became a woman” or some such mush, he proceeded to print all 300 pages, got them bound and magnanimously offered the book to me. I was too creeped out to think about complaining to an authority (which in my case is Mr.B. Joy.) All I wanted was for him to stop. A small miracle (or so I thought) later, he got moved way over to the other end of the hall. Then, however, much to my utter mortification, he walked all the way over to my desk and handed me a two page print out to the effect of:

Guy: I just can’t wait anymore. I must have you now.

Girl: My darling, we don’t have to wait any longer. We can finally be together. (Rip clothes, jump into bed.)

I’m not kidding. Maybe the exact words were different but the essence was exactly this. I did tell him this amounted to sexual harrassment, and I could get him into a lot of trouble for it but he just laughed and gave me the “you and your empty threats” look. Thankfully, though, he’s let me be for now.

I could go on and on, but they’re not all so bad. There’s also the guy who only (and always) sings 70’s Bollywood songs, the guy who eats oranges at his desk and touches your screen with sticky hands, the guy who changes into flip flops once he gets to work and leaves his socks and shoes lying around.. like I said, I could go on.

On the bright side though, at least it can’t get any worse! I hope..