My problem is the person who “works” at the desk next to mine. Nice enough guy, I suppose, but I think he’s what they used to call a blowhard.
All day long it’s I-just-rode-my-bike-up-this or I’m-going-to-design-that or I’m-going-to-invent-this-and-sell-it-and-buy-that-and-put-it-over-there-next-to-those.
Always with the stories about how fast or how smart or how talented he is, or how he’s got this big plan or that big plan. And always with the ego-flexing and always the pure, undiluted me, me, me.
I wish he’d just shut up and leave me alone.
Any suggestions would be most appreciated.
- Ready to Go Work in a Chilean Copper Mine
Dear Ready to Go Work in a Chilean Copper Mine,
And this is exactly why we love the Internet, isn’t it? A place where we can gather in complete anonymity and share our outermost feelings with virtually no fear of reprisal.
But, I have to tell you, Tim, that I think you should cut this guy some slack. I know, I know… it gets tiresome hearing that same old broken record, day-in and day-out, but just imagine riding up Flagstaff in under forty minutes. Why, you’d probably want to brag it up a little, too, wouldn’t you?
And, not that I know, but I’ll bet this guy really did jam with Johnny Winter once. Who do you think showed the White Shadow how to do a full-chord hammer-on? And even if it wasn’t actually the Johnny Winter - maybe just some really pale guy who worked in housewares at Target, for instance - why, it’s still quite a feat, isn’t it. Well, isn’t it?
And, you know, the Nobel Prize doesn’t always go to scientists and humanitarians. Think about that for a minute. Thank you.
Sometimes just imagining great accomplishments is a great accomplishment in itself. Indeed, without folks like your office-mate, life would be a lot like an Iowa zip-line; just a lot of hanging around waiting for something to happen and not much more. Shame, shame on you for not treasuring your incalculable fortune!
Now I have to run. They need me in surgery. Something about showing them where the upper-indular venal cortex is… again.
Jeez, do I have to draw them a picture?