My Annoying Seatmates Here at Work [Part 1]

Today is the day I shall break the ice. My silence stops here.

Over the last few weeks, I have grown FOND of my seatmates here at work. They remind me of my days as a new hire in our firm. Back when I was four years younger…four years stupider…and definitely four years more annoying.

I think you know what I mean.

It’s like after we spend three years in high school and we finally become seniors. It’s the way we see the people from the lower batches, especially the froshies. It’s the way the younger ones seem more annoying both in how they look and act. It’s the way we suddenly wonder if we were that stupid when we were in the same stage.
I could go about work without noticing them, really, but the annoying things that my seatmates are into are just too glaring to just be passed upon.

Let me just paint you a picture of how the set-up here in the office is like:

Our work area simply a vast common room where there are individual workspaces, no dividers, and no cubicles (at least for those who are not yet managers). There is a hodgepodge of files, determining the ownership of which will truly be a logistical nightmare. The place redefines overcrowding, really. A workspace typically intended for one is occupied by two people, or even more. It is where a simple breathe becomes an invasion of the next person’s privacy.

Could you just imagine how inevitable it is for each one of us here in the office to be familiar with our seatmates’ goings on? All that even when we do not intend or even want to have the slightest idea? We can’t help but be all connected, however annoying that connection might turn out to be. Annoying enough to muster that feeling of wanting to box the next person. Well, at least on my part.

I have at least five officemates within the 3 meter radius of my workspace, all of whom are at least 3 batches lower than me. They have this tendency to engage in “activities” which, to my “seasoned” and “mature” senses, are unreasonably juvenile, tantamount to nuisances, thus, annoying.

Now, I would like to introduce you to my seatmates. This time, however, I will have no accompanying pictures. I still have mercy, you know, however others might think otherwise. Besides, since filing libel charges against bloggers might be the next fad, I think making these out as blind items, at least for this post, would lessen my litigation expenses.


First of [maybe] 5 parts…

Discreetly Haliparot Girls
The name speaks for itself, really. These supposed-to-be epitomes of Maria Clara, hailing from the province, and seemingly exuding of rural innocence and womanhood, are not at all what they project themselves to be.

Discreetly Haliparot Girl #1 (DHG1) sits to my left. She is supposedly a barrio lass: speaks like she’s always whispering, sneezes like an itsy bitsy mouse, gives out a shy smile at everyone, takes itsy bitsy bites off her food, wipes the side of her mouth with her embroidered hanky after she takes a bite of her sandwich, engages in public display of physical intimacy…

Wait…what was that?

Yes, that’s right. DHG1 morphs into this creature completely devoid of intimacy issues every time her boyfriend drops by to check on her:


Boyfriend of DHG1: [in disgusting baby talk] O…bakit hindi ka sumama mag-lunch? Magugutom ka niyan? [steals a 1/8 torrid smooch]

DHG1: [smooches back]

DHG1: [in even more appalling baby talk] Eh kasi…ang dami ko pa gawin eh… [gives out a cutesy pout]

xtin: [pretends not to notice, but is nevertheless annoyed]


Apparently, the Maria Clara of today is overly affectionate and annoying. And when such attitude is displayed in the office, I don’t know because I might be wrong on this, isn’t that considered inappropriate? It’s one thing when she’s like this with her boyfriend. It’s just a whole other ball game when she does the same thing to other guys. Guys. Plural.


Other guy/s: [in an I’m-your-concerned-friend-slash-shoulder-to-cry-on tone] O, musta na? Busy ka ba?

DHG1: [in patent baby talk] Eto…

DHG1: [looks up to guy, gives out a cutesy sigh, and bats her eyelashes]

Another guy: [detects flirtation in the air]

Other guy/s: Talaga? Wawa ka naman…

Other guy/s: [sits beside DHG1, extends his arm over the shoulders of DHG1, gives her shoulders a squeeze]

DHG1: [gives out yet another sigh and leans on the open torso of the guy/s]

xtin: [in disgust and in thought] Naknampuchanamanoe. Alam mo, hija, kung nanay mo ako, makukurot talaga kita sa singit! Burikak ka na nga, salawahan pa! Ay santisima!


To be continued…