Five things I hate about my job

‘Private’ post, never again!

rashmitha rao

5. Old Men
The average age of my office is 45 years. Old fucking men everywhere. By old men, I do not mean salt-and-pepper-haired handsome ones – like George Clooneys of real life. No. Nor am I referring to the friendly neighborhood grandpa type who smells like farm-fresh milk and oven-baked cookies his sweet old wife makes (and sends over to the entire neighborhood every fortnight). No, no. I’m talking about wobbly, wrinkled, wretched old men who smell like diabetic dick. They are EVERYWHERE. And I truly mean EVERYWHERE in the office. They are disgracefully aging in the cabins, trying to make sense of the computers in the cubicles, feeding on soft-boiled food in the canteen, quite imaginably pissing all over the toilets, vegetating at the gates dressed in security guard uniforms, and mostly crawling up and down the corridors all day long on their creaky knees trying to peek into…

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