Troll Bitch

I have a coworker who I refer to, in my mind and all over twitter, as Troll Bitch. TB works in the cubicle across from mine, so we face each other but share a wall. A wall that is constantly jolted by her swivel chair antics and which provides no sound barrier to protect me from her long-winded monologues that often revolve around some fantasy life she held in high school. The woman is almost thirty. Apparently all of the boyfriends she romanced as a teen had a lot of trouble getting over her…

Her life is clearly not based in reality.

Nevertheless, I have had the joy of hearing her provide this reasoning to explain why she can’t go to her high school reunion to about twenty different callers who likely care as much as I do.

She sometimes discusses current events.

It is important to note that her voice, which is very nasal, is also about ten decimals higher than necessary so these opinions are audible for all the office (cube land) to hear.

I don’t really understand Wall Street. I think those people need to go home, get healthy, put their children back in school! Education is something they should and those people need to work. It cold outside!”

I don’t have airport problems for flying because I keep my feet on the ground. Thank you! You couldn’t pay me to get in sky!

See how those quotes have missing words so the sentence doesn’t really make sense? That’s how she talks.

She also uses the phrase “I was able enough to… blah blah” /”I actually able enough… blah blah” on every single phone call. It’s not even a real phrase and in combination with her voice, and her constant shaking of my desk with her swivel chair bullshit I was recently driven to bash my head against the walls of my cubicle until I blacked out  walk into her row and calmly ask her to stop swiveling her chair against her desk in that incessant rythym because it also shakes my desk. In response to my request she said,

“I’m not shaking my desk, huh?”

“You are, I was standing here watching you do it before you noticed me,” I now leaned against her cube.

“Ohh. I don’t do that mostly,” she said, backing her chair away from me.

I give a very good stank eye.

“Yeah… this has been going on for weeks now. I would really appreciate it you didn’t do it again.” At this point she just stared at me with her mouth gaping open so I continued, “Thanks!” and went back to my desk. I hadn’t even sat down when I heard her turn to the person beside her and say,

“Oh my GAWD. I do not know her problem is. Seriously.” yadda yadda.

Now she meanmugs me everytime we cross paths without that cubicle divider… but my desk hasn’t been shaking anymore.

I’m so good at making new friends!

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