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Around the Water Cooler with Puddles

By August 29, 2014April 20th, 2017Short Stories

You asked for her and she’s back.

Around the Water Cooler with Puddles

If you’re just joining me, Around the Water Cooler was a quarterly summation of workplace shenanigans that I’ve happened upon, experienced at some point, a figment of my imagination, or a mashup of it all.

And then there is Puddles.

the antagonistic sometimes comforting colleague that you love to hate, but she’s the glue that keeps it together

that’s Puddles

and here’s what’s on her plate this week…

What would Puddles do? #WWPD

Around the Water Cooler with Puddles

It’s early morning and Puddles is sitting at her somewhat stylish 2nd hand kitchen table that she got through osmosis, AKA a family hand-me-down. Didn’t matter much to her, as her middle management salary couldn’t afford such pristine things and it still looked fabulous.

I don’t know what in the hell HR is doing these days. I mean, where are they finding these crock pots that they are sending me. What happened to the days of heavy screening, drug testing, hell or even just basic interviewing. I can’t imagine that this nut that they rehired could pass an interview. How could she? She always smells of 1991 whiskey. It’s probably malt whiskey too. Something like Coleburn. It has to be the hard stuff. She wreaks of it. Day in and day out, she wreaks of Coleburn. And they do nothing. I’m sure they know, everyone stands around the water cooler and yaps about her. Hell, I yap about her too. The lingering smell of Coleburn doesn’t sit well with Amanda’s fresh flowers from Whole Foods nor Nate’s challenging Old Spice. Where do they find these people? I really don’t have time to ponder this nonsense now. I can’t fire them from my kitchen table.

I think I need another dose of coffee in order to deal. Yeah that’s it exactly.

in the office

“Good morning Puddles”, Anita spewed at Patricia.

“Excuse me”, Patricia replied with great snarl.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Good morning Patricia. How are you?”

“I’m well, Coleburn, um, I mean Anita. What’s that scent you’re wearing today?”

“Nothing but the finest, you know this already”

“Yeah, the finest”, Patricia (Puddles) replied.

Seeing her first thing in the morning makes my stomach hurt. I can’t stand her. She’s the thorn in my side and I’m hers, I have to be in order for her to function as a normal employee. She pains my visual with her tired attire. Who in the hell does she think she is with those 80s outfits, then claiming that they are vintage glam. She puffs her auburn colored, borrowed hair high enough to fan the sun. She wears enough rouge to make Bozo the Clown a jealous femme. On top of all of that, she’s Coleburn. Well she’s the offspring of pungent Coleburn. She’s loud, inefficient, and an alcoholic to boot but they love her. The crazed folks here absolutely love her. She’s the main topic of gossip though, well that’s when they’re not chatting about the other drunken hooch, me, Jo-nathan, Charlotte, or “Patty Perfectionist”. My goodness, I have all of this on my plate. What a roaster it is! Jeez but thank goodness it’s Friday.

Oh yeah, if that drunken heifer refers to me as Puddles once again, I’m going to…

#WWPD

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