Dick (An Introduction)

Something just happened at work, so I think it's time to introduce everyone to another of the characters in my office. His name is "Dick". As usual, this is not his real name. Dick has worked here for the entire 5 years I have worked in this building. I see him every day and talk to him most days. And for the life of me I could not tell you what exactly it is that he does here. I think it might be something like the "Jump to Conclusions Mat" guy in Office Space. He even looks a little bit like him. Use that to frame your mental image.

Dick earned his nickname a couple of years back after right after news of the Sean Taylor tragedy broke. If you are unfamiliar, Sean Taylor was a safety for the Redskins who was shot in the upper leg trying to defend his family after his house was broken in to late at night. He died a couple of days later. But right after it happened not all of the details were out and all anyone knew is that a professional football player (who had a checkered history) had been shot and so there was all sorts of irresponsible speculation going on. Dick, hardly the type to abstain from that type of speculation, had his own theory. And because he’s somehow decided that I’m one of the people who like to hear his theories, he came to my cubicle to share his theory with me.

“You hear about that Redskin?” he said, leaning in conspiratorially despite speaking loudly enough for everyone on the floor to hear what he is saying.

“Yeah.”

“Got shot in the upper leg, they say.”

“Yeah, I heard that.”

“You know what probably happened? His wife probably caught him in bed with some other broad, decided to shoot him in the dick.”

“Is that what they’re saying?”

“No, but think about it. Makes sense.”

No, it really didn’t. Especially given the fact that Sean Taylor WASN’T ACTUALLY MARRIED. After that, when I would tell anyone a story about him, he was known as “Sean Taylor’s Wife Shot Him in the Dick.” But eventually that became too cumbersome to type in an e-mail every time he did something obnoxious, so it was shorted to Dick.

Dick is also the guy in the Office who forwards everyone inappropriate e-mails and makes vaguely (and not so vaguely) racist comments loud enough for anyone to hear, which doesn’t exactly foster harmony in this building, which is fairly diverse. After the election last year, he somehow got it in his head that the President was going to open up the borders to create an army of Mexicans and that he needed to “buy guns and gold, so he’d have the guns to protect his gold.”

He also trims his fingernails at his desk and spends all day on the phone trying to have some job done on his house or threatening to sue someone. You get the general idea.

What did Dick do today that prompted this post? Let me tell you. I’m sitting at my desk, going through a long list of products that were somehow put into the system with the wrong codes and Dick approached me, asking if my eyes were good. Since he had decided to overlook the fact that I wear glasses and have literally every day since he’s known me, I told him that I did. That was a mistake on my part, as Dick thrusted his thumb into my face. His thumb is slightly swollen and generally gross-looking as if he has a splinter and has been picking at it.

“Does it look like I there is something in there?”

“Eww, what? Get that out of my face.”

“I had a splinter, I thought I got it out, but I think part of it might still be in there.”

“Yeah, maybe, you should get it looked at.”

“I thought since you had young eyes you might be able to see.”

“I have no idea.”

And then he went on his way. I almost want to ask “who sticks their thumb in somebody’s face anyway?” but I know the answer to that. Dick does. So the moral of the story, to paraphrase Bill Murray from ghost busters is, if anyone asks you if you have good eyes, you say “No.”

That’s all I’ve got.