Posted by: malpants15 | February 18, 2010


Tiny is not really tiny. He is an older man of at least 40 new years, 15-20 of which I do not doubt began with hangovers of parties at which he felt obligated to entertain the amassed co-nerds with his poor taste in jokes and garish holiday tie. He is tall, the topmost part of his figure bare and shiny, reflecting the same unflattering light as his thick glasses. Tiny can be best described from the neck up as a combination of the uncle from Home Alone who calls Kevin a little jerk and Principal Rooney from Ferris Beuhler’s Day Off. He sounds just like another principal, that of the high school attended by both Beavis and his friend, Butthead, but this quality of his audio impact is of little consequence when considering his overall effect.

Tiny is the least self-aware person in our office. On average, he clears his throat, groans, moans, whines, sighs, or curses every 3.47 minutes. When he is not making non-word contributions to our noise pollution, he is narrating his workflow. Yes, I am sure you think I am exaggerating. No, I am not. The man audibly curses at himself, his keyboard, his monitor, his other monitor, his watch, whoever he is on the phone with and anything else within arms’ length. Tiny screams into the phone regardless of the conversation’s content, but is especially snippy to those I would assume to be relatives. He is a monster of air space.

His general lifestyle is equally unappealing. The man, a lumbering 6’3, drives a smart car. It would be more accurate to say that the man lives a smart car. His desk walls are decorated with photographs of sports cars. While you assuredly are picturing small vehicles, I must amend your mental image with additional descriptions. These sports cars are miniature. To be more specific, smart car sized. He has three pictures of smart car-sized sports cars adorning his workspace. There are also smart car pictures on his screen saver, but those are hardly the most offensive. There are also slides of an animated shot glass tipped over towards a salt shaker and jokes probably forwarded to Tiny from other nincompoops throughout the tristate area, or perhaps fellow brethren of whatever fraternity from his college had the lowest athletic score during greek week but kicked ass in chess. I take that back. I doubt this man has any redeeming mental qualities. I say this because I have been informed that Tiny repeatedly ignores the request of another coworker to avoid doing specific duties. He instead continues to do them, interrupting the coworker’s own work. For the amount of noise he makes, he apparently hears nothing. But I digress…

Tiny has one other notable quality that I may mention before becoming too nauseous. He has a habit, in the cozy afternoon comfort of his chair, surrounded by the low hum of copiers and emails received, to doze. Tiny slips into tiny cat naps resting his tiny brain (but huge dome) on his tiny sweaty palms. Mouth open, eyes shut he snoozes through obligations, ignoring all prior plans to catch up on contacting vendors to instead catch up on some z’s. This is lucky for everyone, because without his afternoon nap he might not be able to so completely disregard the common courtesies and decencies usually exercised in the workplace. The man is, as previously stated, completely un-self-aware.

A side note that, while not lending to any generalized personality traits, does give a real life example of those traits in action:

I walked to the bathroom down a narrow hallway, passing Tiny making a personal call. Upon exiting the facility, I looked up to smile as I passed him again. Instead of being greeted, or had I been lucky, ignored, I was met with something far less anticipated, though perhaps it should have been; Tiny had both his thumb and his middle finger inserted past their first knuckles into his left nostril. We made eye contact, which failed to deter him from the excavation. I fled, and we have not spoken of it since, though I doubt he has any recollection of such an incident as would normally occur in his day to day operations.


  1. Where in the world do you work with such strange characters?

    • a construction company in nyc.

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