Category: Work

Must die.
Please God, make them go away. I asked one of the girls why she was all smiles today. She said it was because the new fax machine we ordered came in this morning. She said its sparkling newness was a good omen for the rest of the week.
Oh. Well then.
The thing is, I can’t figure out if she was high on the reefer and making fun of me, or if this is just a sign that the Japanese take their trademark happy worker bee thing a bit too seriously.

I caught a guy walking off with my umbrella during lunch break. I was like, hey yo what the fuck, that’s my umbrella. The guy knew I had him, but decided to weakly claim it was his umbrella. Yet he did not protest when I snatched it out of his hands and left him in the rain. Asshole.

That goddamn line from “Under Pressure” is running around in my head again. An omen, perhaps.

I’m on another business trip. It’s late, I’m sweaty. In a suit. Wasted from a day of picking up on the subtle nuances of Japanese corporate doublespeak, flipping the sentences backwards and into another language, then funneling it down the client’s ear.
Now I’m back at the hotel with several hours worth of work ahead of me and the shrill ring of an alarm clock not mine own to look forward to in the morn.
Time to sign off, folks, but before I go, let me give you the Buddha’s One True Way to get an annoying fat gaijin perv in a middle management position to leave you alone and quit dropping hints like, “so what are Jap girls like?,” and, “so what’s the deal with those hostess clubs we passed earlier?” over a business dinner:
When he gets all drunk and alco-sentimental with your boss later on and lays pictures of his kids on the table, echo everybody’s remarks about how cute they are and what a lovely family he has, then lean over the table and hiss, “God hates sinners.”
Note: It’s all in the

What is Nigari?
Nigari is a liquid extract left over from the processing of tofu.
Nigari is rich in minerals and is claimed to be an excellent dietary supplement.
Supposedly, the high magnesium content of nigari works in the intestines to block the absorption of fat into the body.
Nigari is claimed to be especially effective when taken with foods rich in B vitamins such as pork or mushrooms.
Nigari is poured over food before it’s eaten; some people say it’s tasteless, and others claim it’s slightly bitter.
Nigari, in case you haven’t figured it out yet, is a huge health fad in Japan.
I also think nigari is a damn good way for tofu companies to make money on what was once probably considered a waste byproduct. Maybe the health claims aren’t so far off. Another byproduct of tofu manufacturing is okara, a substance very high in fiber and very good for you, which unfortunately smells and tastes like shit. An old friend of mine once told me that when she was a kid, a truck from a local tofu factory would come by her school every week to drop off free okara. The kids would all run away from it screaming because they hated eating it so much. But I digress. You are thinking, “what the fuck is J getting at?”, and “hurry up and tell us more exciting tales of tofu.” Okay, kids:
Today in the company cafeteria, I chose a seat near the windows, as always, so I could look at the birds in the trees and be extremely jealous of their carefree lifestyle, as always. I sit by myself because if its one thing I’ve learned over the years at a big Japanese company, it’s that talking about work shit over lunch break doesn’t feel like much of a break at all.
A group of guys from another section intruded on “my” table, and this ridiculously irritating hippie health-fad slave among them pulled out a bottle of nigari and started pouring copious amounts of it on each person’s food, squealing in an incredibly annoying tone of nag, “try this out, it’s NIGAAAARI it’s TAAAASTELESS it’s GOOOODFORYOU.” When he got to the person who had sat down next to me, he accidentally poured some in MY bowl of miso soup (which I had taken off the food tray earlier and placed on the table between myself and the guy next to me). I was thinking, “what the fuck!”, and probably went bug-eyed in disbelief, but didn’t say anything at first (that’s the old “fitting-in at overseas office” function kicking in). Actually, the whole table was kind of in disbelief that this dumbass had tainted my food. This is Asia; the unwritten rules are that you don’t fuck with:
A. Another man’s bowl of rice
– or –
B. Another man’s bowl of soup
*curiously enough, main dishes and side dishes are fair game if you ask first OR the other person doesn’t notice
So now we have a situation because homeboy has fucked with my bowl of hot fermented soybean goodness and is totally unapologetic. The fucker tells me, to the horror of his friends, its GOOOOD for you.
Ten years ago, this guy would have been eating teeth. Five years ago, he would have at least been wearing soup. Today, since I was in such a good mood, what with the birds in the trees and, admittedly, since I’m not nearly such an asshole anymore, I resisted the immediate urge to kill. Half of his friends were apologizing on his behalf while the other half told him to stop being such a dickhead, and I eventually agreed to let him buy me a new bowl of soup (his friends insisted on it). That was strangely embarassing, so when he went to buy it, I made a big show of licking my thumb and sticking it in his bowl of rice.
His friends went along with that just fine, and he never figured out why everyone kept giggling throughout the meal.
//
I suppose the moral of this story is, “You can take the man out of the asshole…”

The company is making us go home at an unprecedented 2:00 in the afternoon so you just know we are in for a real beating. I haven’t been this happy since the fifth grade… Just waiting for that bell to ring…
In other news, there was another magnitude 4 earthquake here this morning. It feels like the world is going to end, and all I can think about is the recess bell.

I thought this kind of shit only happened in Amsterdam:
WRHA hands out free crack pipes
Crack fiends are people too, eh?

So I’m on a coffee break and the guy next to me says, out of the blue, “I wonder how many legs you can pull off a centipede without impeding its ability to forage for food.”
I’m at a loss for words, and I wonder if this line of thought has anything to do with the fact that he just got chewed a while ago out by the boss in front of the whole office for holding up production of a new product.
A few seconds later, in the same monotonous patter, he muses, “I wonder if its like one of those 16-wheel tractor trailers… If one or two go flat, there’s basically no effect…”
Well, that’s innocent enough, right? Typical engineer-type daydreams, I imagine.
Then: “I wonder if losing a leg is as painful for a centipede as it is for a human being.”
Well. I finished my coffee in record time, my friends…
Work issues. Gotta love ’em.

Back at work this week. What can I say. It’s wonderful – my coworkers are courteous and professional, and management is sincere and warmhearted. I’d much rather be here catching up on ten days worth of e-mail and mostly forgotten business problems than, say, in the halls of Montezuma or the shores of Tripoli. I mean, I don’t even think FedEx does pick-ups in some of those places – and I ask you this – what would your office life be without FedEx, you ungracious cur? I’ll tell you: It would suck very hard, and very hard it would be sucking.
OFFICE WORKER TIP O’ THE DAY
(limited to areas that have FedEx pick-ups) – by C. Buddha
The adhesive side of the transparent FedEx waybill pouches makes an excellent field expedient Lint Removal Tool. Simply peel off the paper backing and use it like you would normally use a piece of tape for the same purpose. That is, make repetetive pounding motions on the lint-ridden clothes in question and repeat wildly and incesssantly like a monkey on crack. With tape, this maneuver can take quite a while since it loses its stickiness after a short time and you need to keep tearing off new strips, but the huge (9′ x 12′) adhesive surface of the waybill pouches is awesome! Use this tip to awe your coworkers at company parties! Use all the time it saves you to pursue new hobbies! Best of all, do it all on your vendor’s dime! FedEx is raping you all the time with those prices, so GO GET SOME PAYBACK.
Update: It has been pointed out to me that this is all really unnecessary if you use a lint brush. Hmm… Okay supposing that lint brushes work as well as a sticky waybill pouch (how the hell should I know; I forgot such a thing existed), here’s the deal: If you have a lint brush at your desk at work, I can only retort that that’s pretty anal and you might make a good successor to Martha Stewart (except that I have the feeling Martha would probably like my little hack). If you actually carry a lint brush around everywhere you go, you need professional help (and it really WILL be your fault when your kid gets caught torturing small animals), but in lieu of paid therapy you might just try letting it all out once in a while – you know, like a monkey. On crack.

They really do.
I confirmed it today when they forgot to tell me about the “lithium leak” drill scheduled in the office next door. What happens is, well, they simulate a spill of hazardous substances. So when a man in a white space suit stormed into our office, I naturally thought he was coming for me.
“You’ll never catch me alive, copper!,” I screamed, and brandished a stapler most menacingly. Well, no. Actually, I just sat there in amazement and stared. Nobody else around me seemed to react much at all, even when he shouted, “ALL CLEAR!,” and stomped on down the hall.
Since no explanations were forthcoming from my coworkers, I have decided that it probably didn’t really happen. Somebody must have spiked my bottled water with psilocybin or something. I guess they’ve learned how much I hate the first mind-numbing day back at work after an extended weekend. How sweet.