Noelle C, as it turns out, is not a funny person. She's not like Elsie W, who was loud, annoying, messy, completely unaware of whether or not her clothes were inside out, that sort of thing. Noelle C is a different person entirely, and yet, the result is the same.
She is driving me out of my mind.
I could look past the fact that she never, ever, EVER stops talking. It doesn't seem to matter that no one is listening or even within earshot. It's like that old proverb...if Noelle C is talking in the office and no one's around to hear, will she continue talking?
The answer is YES.
And it's not that she is a complete, total, and utter fanny fluffer when it comes to Lumbergh. It's almost sad the way she can't have a thought on her own without first clearing it with him. It's also very sad that she's in love with him. He seems to enjoy it, except since he's a completely self centered brain fart of a boss, he has no idea the weird repercussions there can be to allowing a whackadoo like her to think he's okay with the overt romantic attention.
Oh, and that part makes me want to barf.
No, the reason Noelle C is driving me out of my mind is that she is deaf in one ear, has almost no hearing in the other, refuses to do anything about it and gets mad when she can't hear what anyone's saying. She's convinced, since no one talks to her, that everyone thinks she's worthless. Thing is, people talk to her all the time, she CAN'T HEAR THEM.
She went in to try on hearing aids. She was amazed at how loud everything was in the store. She decided not to buy them. I get that they're expensive, but if you saw how she does her job, and the complete disconnect there is, you'd want to throttle her and yell, "GET THE HEARING AIDS!"
See, one big part of her job, and, most of the time, mine, is getting phone numbers and addresses from customers. Elsie W was terrible at this, but mostly because I'm pretty sure she was illiterate, and therefore everything was spelled really, really wrong. BUT, Noelle C, since she is fairly deaf, instead of turning up the sound on her phone headset, she pretty much just fills in the blanks with whatever she figures sounds good. This would be fine...except we are sending sales people all over the state, and getting things like the ADDRESS and the CITY right are sort of key.
Today, however, I was at my wit's end mostly because she has this way of blaming me for things that I barely have anything to do with. For example, this week Peaches is having a fund raiser for her school orchestra. We are selling candy bars. Very nice, high end, candy bars. I put a box out at work. Everyone loves them, especially Noelle C, who bought 4 in two days AND ATE THEM ALL.
I love chocolate...I would have died with that kind of cocoa intake.
Today, she informed me that she had to stop eating chocolate because she was experiencing allergic symptoms. (She's convinced herself that the swelling of her butt is exactly the same as the swelling of someone's tongue or lips.) She said, "You brought that in here and now I'm getting so fat."
Yes, yes, I rammed four gigantic candy bars down your throat in the past 24 hours.
Not happy that I didn't apologize for my sin of bringing candy into the office, she turned to the one person she knew would give her a sympathetic ear: Lumbergh. What follows is the precise conversation between a woman who is 90% deaf and won't do anything about it and a guy who never speaks above a whisper even though he knows she's nearly deaf and can't hear anything he's saying.
"Yes Noelle c?"
(giddy, because now he's looking at her) "I can't keep eating like this. Sarah brought those candy bars in here and now I'm having allergic reactions to the candy."
"So stop eating the candy."
(She doesn't hear this.) "I'm going back on my diet."
I should mention she was on the diet when she started working at Initech, which is why on her first day she had to pull down her pants in front of me and show me that she was a size 16. I'm also a size 16. I have never had the inclination to show anyone the size tag on my pants.
"Oh, that's good."
"Yes, I'm going to lose 80 pounds next year."
"Oh, by when?" (now he's interested because well, he's a gym nut.
Now, I know what she means, but since she can't hear his question and he refuses to speak up, I know I'm up for some good theater.
"No, " he whispers, "by when?"
"January first. 80 pounds."
"No, how long will you take to lose the weight?"
"But how many months will you give yourself to lose the weight"
"Next year. 8 pounds a month."
Worst "Who's on First" routine EVER. This conversation actually goes on for a few more minutes but it doesn't matter. These two are the number one reason I reach for the pinot noir when I get home. He whispers, she can't hear, and yet they insist on talking to each other fifty times a day. And the minute he leaves the building, do you know what she does?
Oh you know what happens....
Yes, she hovers over my desk and tells me how jealous she is because Lumbergh and I have conversations, while he just ignores her.
Folks, I cannot make this up, and I don't think I'd want to....real life is just way too funny.
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