Fred.

So, I kinda hate my job. Like, I'm not ABSOLUTELY miserable and I suppose I should be lucky to have a job that isn't working at pizza joint for minimum wage, but there are elements of my job that just suck.

One of those sucky elements is Fred.

I am 24 years old. I fully admit I am not the most worldly person, but I know enough. I'm a relatively educated individual. I read a lot--mainly philosophy and historical fiction and the news. I travel as much as I can afford (which isn't much when you're trying to save for a condo and a car that doesn't break down every week, but still). I've had some interesting experiences in my 24 years on this planet and they continue to get more and more interesting. And as a result, I've met some very interesting people.

I've also met some very annoying people. But none as annoying as Fred.

I don't know what it is about this man. I really don't. I joke around a lot, which probably isn't right in and of itself, but I actually have patience with many different types of people. I don't WANT children, but I like them well enough when they're not mine and I can send them home at the end of the day. I like the elderly, hence my signing up to be an elderly caretaker on a part-time basis. I have a ton of patience with the mentally challenged.

But I have no patience with Fred. None. I didn't like him from day one and as much as I try, there's nothing I can do to cause myself NOT to get upset around him. It takes every fiber of my being, every cell of my body, every atom within me, not to lose it with this man.

Pretty much every morning and afternoon (or so it seems) he comes to my office across the hall, stands in the doorway, and does the "finger guns." Sweet mother of God. Every morning he does that is when my day immediately starts going to hell. For those who cannot figure it out, "finger guns" is when an individual "shapes" his hands like handguns--pointing the forefinger forward and the thumb upward and curling the remaining three fingers inward toward the palm.

Every day, at least once and as many as four times, Fred does the finger guns. With both hands. And he makes a lame "Bssh! Bssh! Bssh!" sounds while he does it. (Supposedly "Bssh! Bssh! Bssh!" sounds like a gun going off).

I hate this. With all that I am I hate it.

And anytime he catches me eating something--which is quite frequent because he's ALWAYS AROUND ME--he'll say the following, "Hey there! Did ya bring enough for all of us?" And I ALWAYS look straight at him, roll my eyes, and make that lame little uncomfortable laugh (you know the one) and walk away.

Then there's the time he asked if he could borrow my Air Force Times publication. I told him that he could keep it once I was done with it and that I would likely be done with it the next day. He seemed to agree to this, until I went to the restroom an hour or so later so return to my desk and find the Air Force Times missing from it.

Now, no one else in my office cares about the Air Force Times. I am the only one who reads it. Yet, I ask everyone in my office if they took it off my desk. They all say no. They have no reason to lie to me. I KNOW who took it. And if it were anyone else, I know I wouldn't be so mad. I go to look for Fred. He's not in his office. I look for my Air Force Times. It's nowhere to be found.

I go back to my office for a while and am called to leave for a bit. I return to find it back on my desk.

I think the fucker went to the bathroom and took a shit while reading MY Air Force Times. The thought makes me sick to my stomach and I quickly toss it--touching only the corners.

Here's what I don't understand about Fred:

1.) Why the finger guns, day in and day out? Do I look like a cute, little 5-year old boy who would enjoy this type of banter? DO I? I HATE the guns! Can't you get the point from the look on my DISGUSTED FACE that your finger guns to NOT AMUSE ME? I am a 24 year old, grown woman, for Christ's sake! Finger guns do NOT FUCKING APPEAL to me in ANY WAY WHATSOEVER! FUCK YOU AND FUCK YOUR FINGER GUNS!

2.) Why, whenever I have food, do you INSIST upon ALWAYS asking if I brought enough breakfast/lunch/snack for the entire fucking building? Go screw yourself! Do YOU bring enough food for the whole building? NO! And even if I DID have enough food to feed the entire building, I would NOT give any to you. This is not because I am not generous. If ANYONE ELSE asked for my last bite of food, I would give it to him/her. It is because YOU as SO UN-CREATIVE that you cannot come up with something more original to say! You don't deserve my wonderful food! BUG OFF!

3.) How dare you take something off my desk without my permission?!?! I don't care if it is a cat turd, it is MY cat turd and you are NOT allowed to take it without asking me first! And why are you in my office snooping around in the first place?! Did I invite you? Not that I can recall. Leave now before I call the security police.

Fred--I implore you: please be more original in your phrases and actions or I will very quickly lose my mind. Perhaps instead of those lovely finger guns, you could throw me over a fake grenade? Or instead of asking for my food, you could tell me it looks terrible and you would rather lick your own ass than eat it. I'd at least get a laugh from your rude, yet creative input. And if you're going to take my Air Force Times, at least have the courtesy of leaving me a nice, fresh Cosmopolitan or Glamour magazine in it's place. It's only polite.