Alright… This has been going on for about 4 months too long. There’s a dude on our floor that wears sweatpants to work, every fucking day. I don’t have sweatpants, and as an adult, I feel that they’re one thing that you need to let go of when you grow up and get a real job, where people are on salary. If you get paid by the hour, make cold calls, sign people up for magazine subscriptions on the phone, or if you’re a hot co-ed walking down the aisle of the local FoodPlex™, then they’re alright.
If you work at a multi-billion dollar entertainment conglomerate, they’re not cool.
The issue here, is that I try to class it up when I go into the office. Nice buttoned down shirt, interesting shoes, clean, well fitting trousers. I do my best to not look like I overslept and missed Intro to Poly Sci, and Theater Appreciation earlier that morning, because I was out at Denny’s eating a Moons Over My Hammy at 4:45. The other creepy thing about Sweatpants Guy, is that he was making out with his girl the other day in the break room. A little background on Sweatpants Guy (SWPG) – he seems to be from an eastern bloc country.
Fuck a duck… I just spilled chicken noodle soup on my new shirt I got last night while writing this. Damnit all to hell…
Back to SWPG – Eastern Bloc Country. Probably ending with an “nia”. The girlfriend looks like any blonde Russian gymnast from the past 20 years. Take your pick.
They had then hands all going, tongues interlocking, all while SWPG’s food is re-heating in the microwave. I came in to get some ice, and I am pretty sure I audibly said “Whoa! Look out!” as I was caught off guard. They didn’t blink an eye, and didn’t remove one single hand from an inappropriate place on each other’s anatomy. Now every time I see him in the halls, I have the double whammy of seeing him rock the fucking pants of shame, and know that he’s going to have that mail order bride of his all contorted up like a pretzel later on tonight while they let their steaming cauldron of borscht cooking on the stove.