Women Types In The Office…
Why is it that wherever you work, even if you change jobs three times a year, the office is always populated with the same odd characters?
There’s the creepy lothario, a woman with a silly laugh, and a man who thinks wearing a bow-tie shows he’s irresistibly witty and eccentric. And that’s just the start. Here’s my guide to the Women Types In The Office…
THE SERIAL DIETER
A woman who talks scathingly about ‘empty calories’ and makes a lemon-sucking face if she sees anyone eating anything other than sushi or fruit. She is underweight, but sticks her middle out in the ladies’ loo and says, ‘Oh my fat stomach is so disgusting’. You must agree. If she persists, buy huge joke knickers in Poundland and say, ‘We found these in the gym, are they yours?’
THE SALAD DODGER
Leaves a few apples on her desk to give the appearance of innocence then disappears at 12.30 (she can’t wait any longer) and stuffs her chops with rubbish. Leave an open box of chocs on your desk and watch her suffer convulsions of longing and self-loathing. Delicious.
THE POSH TOTTY
This woman’s name was perfectly respectable on the birth certificate, but she claims she could not pronounce it as a child so now it is something silly, such as Libby (Elizabeth) or JoJo (Joanna). This name nonsense happens a lot in the world of public relations for some reason.
THE BRIDE BRAIN
Choose a desk well away from this poor girl. She’s got a year to sort out her nuptials but just sits reading Bridal magazines, while her colleagues do all the work. That’s when she’s not crying because some overpriced cake-maker says they can’t produce cupcakes shaped like handbags.
THE GLAMOUR SNOB
Looks you up and down and says: ‘I used to have a dress like that, about ten years ago.’ Take a Matalan carrier bag to work and watch the expression of pity on her face. Then tell her: ‘You’ve put on weight and it really suits you.’
THE AGEING SEDUCTRESS
The poor woman thinks she is still 21 and will get into a lift full of women, prepare to press the buttons and say with a wink: ‘So… are we going all the way ladies? Hahahaha!’ Her clothes are questionable — sunglasses indoors, lots of leopardskin.
She says, ‘hello handsome’ when the work experience boy walks past, kisses male colleagues when they return from a week off and trails overpowering perfume in her wake.
If you take a day off sick, this reptile (usually wearing glasses as thick as a paving slab) will seek out the boss and say, ‘Is Mary ill? How awful, it must have been that party she went to last night. Oh sorry, have I put my foot in it?’
Will sigh as they walk through the door and say: ‘I can’t stand much more of this’, even though it is only 10.15am. They mutter darkly about not being appreciated and scowl for eight years but make no attempt to find a new job.
Takes a fag break every hour, thus putting in one third less work than everyone else. It’s not nicotine she’s after — just an easy life.
A woman of 30-ish found sobbing in the loo every morning, as the guy she is in love with hasn’t called. ‘No one will ever love meeee,’ she wails. And they won’t if she carries on like this.
Never ask: ‘How are you?’ because you will be treated to a vile account of something hideous and gynaecological.
A woman who talks as if delivering the secrets of the universe when, in fact, she is regaling you about her sister’s new life in Australia (who probably emigrated to avoid the crushing tedium of her sibling). Under-50 bores grow their own vegetables and will tell you there are 38 ways to clean Venetian blinds. ‘So the first way….’. Zzzzz.
by Susan Floyd