Monday, December 3, 2007

So How Bout Them Yankees?

There is a guy in our company who intimidates me. He is one of my many bosses and whenever he is around, my eyes scan the room for the closest window in case it is necessary to take a safety leap. He is one of those guys who doesn't need to say anything in order to find fault with others. He lets you do the incrimination. In conversation, he often stares at me without speaking, mid-conversation, forcing me to break the awkward silence with non-intelligable banter. Panic overcomes my normal thought processes during these situations and I just start talking about anything my feeble mind can puke up. Weather, traffic, bird migrations, bowels... anything to stop the deafening silence. After thoroughly humilitating myself, I usually walk away shaking my head and muttering outloud "You are a f*cking idiot Matt" multiple times. A favorite past time of mine is to mime shooting myself in the forehead. Literally, I will do this when nobody is around. It's a nice release.

As of now, I still can't find a solution to this problem. When he stops talking and starts staring, I can't just join in with him. Staring at a dude in silence isn't exactly my idea of a good time. There has to be a solution. Maybe I can create an imaginary illness that affects me at random and use it as an excuse to excuse myself (Excuse me?). Nah, that stuff can be investigated and revealed. Unfortunately, I cannot reasonably pre-plan a conversation to start up once this situation arises. Once there is silence, panic overcomes my body and my brain instantly transforms to moldy cottage cheese.

My only defense now has to be awareness. He is an incredibly smart guy and is probably fully aware of what he is doing. In fact, I see a faint smile run across his face when I start fumbling for words. Okay. It's time to apply the military maxim "Use an enemy's strength against him." (I need to get a life. By the way, I was assigned to spy on one of our tour guides today to see if he did a good tour, and you can't imagine how excited I was. I'm surpirsed I didn't apply for a gun permit.) Now, the next time I see him, and this thing starts to happen, I am going to pull an "I'm too cool for school" and instead of vomit-talking, I will just pull up the closest chair (or lean back if already seated) and bring up sex. Side-note: This guy is obsessed with himself and sex, and the combination of the two. This is perfect. What is the best way to avoid a monster? Throw one of the fat guys in front of it. Feed the monster. Turn the conversation from Moron Matt into Hey That New Tour Guide is Pretty Hot. I might not actually think that, but no matter. The attention has been diverted and I am saved. Praise the gods. Let's hope this goes according to plan.

Famous last words?

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