Attack of the Pear-Shaped People

The greater part of my day is spent in a cubicle with four carpet covered, metal frame walls that sits in a virtual sea of other such dividers. In my time, I've noticed that people who work in an office tend to lose some of their natural body shape. In essence, the longer one sits in an office, the more closely one resembles a pear.

My cubicle neighbor is definitely no exception to this rule. Her body is almost entirely a fruit-shape of the pear kind and her idea of exercise seems to be getting up to hit the vending machine. I can hear the rotund, office chair wearing, cow of a woman munching chips at regular intervals throughout the day. Its amazing she hasn't chewed off her own fingers. I know she hasn't because she also pounds her keyboard strenuously (as if the tonnage of fat straining within the skin of each of her stubby hands did not provide enough weight; as if this were the only other form of exercise that cow gets in between munch breaks...). Ok. So, I hear the woman grazing and shifting her fat ass in her squeaky chair all day long. So what? She has a right to be here too. I know this. But knowing this doesn't make it any more tolerable.

Oh, if you could hear her on the phone! Her job is almost entirely tele-conferencing. From what I overhear, and that's a lot because she has one of those fat-bitch voices, you know the kind that seems to come from a large, hollow, bellowing cavity somewhere in between her head and feet... she simply facilitates these meetings and offers NO advice or support to her attendees. She repeats the same low IQ phrases, speaking in a pseudo valley girl/hillbilly accent, day in and day out. "So, what I'm hearing is [for ex:] that you ... you are still working on the project?" Or, "Ok, is everyone ok with that?" And my TOTAL favorite, "Let me make sure I understand. What you just said was [for ex:] you have another meeting in five minutes?"--as if the person on the other end had randomly forgotten his/her own statement OR as if she has trouble comprehending simple English.

I'm making this woman out to be a real simpletion, I am well aware. But to some degree, she truly is a moron. Her daughter as well. On rare occasions, her daughter visits with her in her cube. The daughter, young but big and undoubtedly growing, sits there looking like a sack of jelly with her drooping jaw resting on her neck and staring into the void. Guess it runs in the family.

My point here is to Beware of the Pear-Shaped People! Once they invade the office they begin to infect all around them with bitterness and ill temper. And for those who align with the PSP, you may soon find that your office chair "fits" you a little too well; that your hips and thighs are more than double your shoulder width; and, that your arms hang listlessly from a body that has come to resemble an old, flabby T-Rex. If you notice any of these symptoms, RUN! RUN AWAY! RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!

By following these simple instructions, you too might survive the Attack of the Pear-Shaped People.