Dear Work Colleagues,
I have conducted a survey of our place of employment using the awesome power of my eyes and arrived at the conclusion that many of you do not know how to treat the workplace correctly or you have deliberately set out on a path to annoy me. If the former should be the case then this open letter to you may help you to become a better work colleague through not being killed in a tonsilectomy/bludgeoning-style rampage. If, instead, the latter is true then hark these words: I have a broken spoon in my top desk drawer and I am this close to gouging somebody’s tonsils out and battering him or her about the head with them until death rescues that person from my furious onslaught.
The kettle in the kitchen has been designed with a handy see-through section down one side adorned with numbers and letters. Far from being decorative as several of you clearly assume, these markings instead form a deceptively simple yet remarkably smart way of determining whether the kettle has enough water in it for 2, 4, 6, 8, or 10 cups. The 10-cup indicator is actually the small word ‘MAX’ you see at the top of the kettle.
How to use the kettle: if you are making a cup of coffee then fill the kettle to just under the number 2. If you are making a cup of coffee each for you and another work colleague then fill it to the number 2. And so on up to 10. The number of people having coffee bears a direct correlation to the number on the side of the kettle to which it should be filled with water. It’s ingenious.
How not to use the kettle: I don’t care who it is but whoever it is that keeps filling the kettle beyond the ‘MAX’ level, making himself one cup of coffee, then refilling the kettle to beyond the ‘MAX’ level once more leaving me the choice of pouring out over 9 cups worth of water or wait twenty minutes for the damn thing to boil is on the fast track to meeting Mr Spoon. Stop it.
The kitchen floor shares many traits with floors the world over in that it is a solid mass designed to support other solid masses – objects and people – and stop said solid masses – objects and people – from falling through to the centre of the planet where all the dinosaurs are hiding. It is not – and I must stress this – a handy place to spill milk and leave it there. The kitchen has kitchen towels on the windowsill; please use them or I may have to make you lick up any spillage in future. And then spoon you. You know the sort of spooning I’m talking about. It’s not the post-coital kind in case you’re in any doubt.
This is targeted at the majority of my work colleagues who happen to fall into the "born with a penis" category.
The toilet floor – like the kitchen floor and floors the world over – is a solid mass designed to support other solid masses – objects and people – and stop said solid masses – objects and people – from falling through to the centre of the planet where all the elves are hanging out with the dinosaurs. It is not – and I must stress this in more stressful terms than I’ve previously stressed any floor-related advice – a sponge. That is to say that it does not absorb all the flying drops of water (and let’s pray that’s all it is) that accompanies someone’s flailing-the-arms-wildly method of hand drying. The towel in the toilet does have absoprtion powers though; it’s not in the toilet due to agoraphobia. Use it.
When you finish off a loo roll … go and get another loo roll to replace it. It hasn’t happened to me yet but one day I’m going to need the loo roll and it won’t be there and on that day there will be a spoon-related massacre.
I’m pleased to say that everyone flushes the loo after they’ve used the toilet. Congratulations all around, although more courtesy sprays of the room freshener wouldn’t go amiss. However, sometimes, dear friends, the toilet needs another flush for one reason or another. You won’t know this unless you check afterwards. Please check. I really, really don’t like finding the remains of your previous night’s dinner. I feel my spoon-reaching urge come upon me in those moments and there is a roaring in my ears and blood red veins of violence creep into the edge of my vision.
According to Wikipedia the telephone "is a telecommunications device which is used to transmit and receive sound (most commonly speech)." As a user of telephones over the years I can confirm that this is 100%, dead-on balls accurate. It does the job and it does it very well.
You. Do. Not. Need. To. Shout. Down. The. Telephone. In. Order. To. Have. The. Other. Person. Hear. You.
Yes, this is true even if they’re very far away. Please speak with a normal voice or risk never speaking again. My spoon insists on this.
I’m not going to name names but one of you has a nose whistle. All the time. Listen out for it the next time you’re not talking. Your nose whistle bothers me. Please purchase nose plugs or use rolled-up post-it notes or something, anything, please. I don’t want to be tipped over the edge by your nose whistle; that’s just plain embarrassing. Even the spoon in my desk drawer would be mortified to be involved in a glorious mauling caused by a nose whistle.
Thankyou very much for your attention in this matter and I hope we can learn from this and work together in a blood-dripping spoon-free environment.