I realize that whoever decided "open" office plans with tons of cubes all next to each were a "good" use of space might be more evil than the bastard(s) that invented pantyhose. I believe in my heart of hearts that whomever decided it was a good idea to plunk whole teams of people with different functions together in clustered cubicles inherited so much bad karma that they probably got really serious ass cancer. It sucks so bad to sit here and do hours of data analysis and listen to our customer service reps yuck it up right next to me. I can't concentrate most of the time, and I'm not allowed to wear headphones since that doesn't munge well with our Collaborative Office Bullshit Plan. These things cause a lot of hatred and anger in my soul, but not nearly as much hate and anger as Vocal Farting Dude in the Cube Next to Mine.
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I can totally appreciate a wide variety of music, really. In my own collection of music at home, you'll find things as different as Henry Mancini all the way to Rob Zombie, with a little George Jones thrown in for kicks. I enjoy any genre of music so long as it is done well. I appreciate good singers because I'm not one myself, therefore I never sing out loud except if I'm alone in my car. BUT, they guy in the cube next to mine sings all the fucking time. And to make matters worse, he can't carry a tune, and is always singing these insidious 80s tunes to see if the folks around him "remember this gem." It is a game that amuses him for hours, and he seems oblivious to the rolling eyes he gets from nearly everyone. How can he not notice we pretend we don't know the words to "My Sharona" all the time? Hack your fucking data and shut the fuck up.
On top of that, the guy is one gassy motherfucker. He farts AUDIBLY all the time and they stink so badly. He always goes to Taco Del Mar and gets burritos, and eats them at his desk. I am convinced this contributes to his gas problem since I have never witnessed him eating a meal that doesn't involve beans.
I am perplexed as to what to do. I asked him a couple of times not to sing so much as I find it distracting, and his giggly response was "You just don't like all these songs stuck in your head." I'm not a jerk-off so I am not going to tell his Supremo Cuntress boss he sings all the time. What sort of ass rag goes to the guy’s boss and says "I have a problem with Mr. X. He sings all the time and it bothers me." I feel stupid even imagining this scenario in my mind.
I can't even bring up the topic of his farting. I put a package of Beano on his desk once after work when I had come back to get something and our office was empty. I have no idea if he got the hint, but nothing changed with his ass status, so I have to think he either didn't get it or doesn't give a fuck. I also can't imagine myself saying "You fart all the time, could you please stop it" to his face. When I mentioned it to one of my fellow cube farmers, she was horrified at my mere suggestion of saying something to him, but I think it's fucking evil of me to talk about it too much with other people we work with and not tell him I have a problem with his foul leaky ass. She also seemed to think he is a bit mentally unbalanced and something of a sociopath but wouldn't tell me why she thought that, which made me scared to tell him about the farting. I've wrestled with an anonymous note situation, but all I can think to type up is something to the effect "Your farting is out of control. Is there anything you can do to pass gas less, or perhaps step out of our close-quartered cubicle environment when you feel the need for imminent eruption?"
Anyone know any magic tricks to prevent gas and singing? This guy's ass erupts more reliably than Old Faithful, and he's singing the entire time.
this is in or around cube farm hell