Strictly work-related
Bluetooth Troll: After working for more than a half a year in Clayton, I am not phased by most assholes with a Bluetooth. Yes, it looks stupid, and yes, it is rude to use in public, but you, Bluetooth Troll, are an exception. Not only do you use your earpiece as an excuse to conduct business outside in the courtyard (where others are trying to enjoy lunch or a cigarette), but you punctuate your conversations with a quick greeting for everyone who walks past you. You're not a politician, so I don't see the need for this mid-sentence schmoozing that you feel is so appropriate. Although this might be deemed a nicer gesture if you were legitimately friendly or mildly attractive, your short, portly stature and serial killer specs make you about as approachable as any bridge-dweller. We know that you're important because you don't adhere to the restrictions of a traditional office environment, but don't flaunt your stupidity while I'm trying to enjoy a book.

Phyllis: We are kindred spirits. I know this because I often catch you unlocking the law office across the hall as I prop open our doors in the morning. We usually exchange the tired, yet polite smile that most administrative assistants seem to share, and then return to our respective desks to direct callers and thwart telemarketers. Perhaps you don't watch The Office, but I couldn't help notice your penchant for frumpy maternal wear and a heavy application of blush. Your sheepish demeanor also indicates that perhaps you have an Angela in your life, interrupting your happiness and declaring green "whorish". I cannot be sure of this last part, but from the enthusiastic smiles I receive after complimenting you in the bathroom (Have you considered wearing more pink? I wasn't lying about that sweater.), I can only infer that you are bullied somewhere. You look like you need a hug. Let's get lunch and talk about it.

The Blondes from the Second Floor: You know who you are. Like a carefully choreographed porno, you all seem to end up in the bathroom at the same time. As one who has also been known to gossip loudly on occasion, I understand that these retreats probably make your days a little shorter, but as a complete stranger, I do not want to hear about your sexual escapades. Your attempts at whispering are appreciated, but need I remind you that this is a bathroom, and as pre-Magnolia Aimee Mann would say, "Voices Carry". In short, I'm sick of forfeiting my time in front of the hand dryer so you can talk about some douche you picked up last weekend.