I’m pretty sure we all have that one person at work that we just can’t get on with. Of course there could be numerous folk that fulfil that criteria but the chances are there’s one person above all else that really gets on your tits.
The kind of person who’s very existence makes you sigh and question “why?”. Their attitude to life, and other humans in general makes you wonder what sort of deal with the devil their parents made on that faithful night. The sort of person that when they enter a room you feel the lightbulbs dim, the air vacate and your knuckles tighten akin to Manimal having a bit of a funny turn.
Yet we are all professionals, right? We, being British, stiffen that upper lip we’re so proud of and get on with it. We conduct ourselves in a manner that is proper and right. We absolutely do not lower ourselves to the cretinous behaviour of the rancid waste of skin that has wronged you. No, no, no. That would be most unbecoming. We don’t name call, we don’t complain and we certainly don’t offer to make them a cup of tea, gargle snot, and then spit up a great big greenie into their mug. No. That would be very wrong.
I’m pretty sure we all have that one person at work that we just can’t get on with. If you’re reading this and thinking, “nope, you’re talking squiffle, MrBinks” then come closer…
ppssttt…. it’s probably you.
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