This made me laugh hard

Ok, just read si’s story at the office. Man, I feel sorry for you. I know how it feels like when your working place smells like s**t.

Everyone go grab youself a beer, what I’m about to tell you might not be of any help (to si) but here’s my worst experience with woman at work, her perfume, and more.

About nine years ago I lived in Buffalo, New York, working at a small gallery that invites young, rising, ambitious artists. Sometimes we would also invite art students who excelled in their studies or prized graduate works. A really nice place that existed for seventy years and was owned by generations of one family that gives opportunity to artists who’s not afriad to experiment.

My boss (an art-related invester who owns many galleries) was a nice old man who kept his cat in this gallery – a white cat in a white gallery. The curators, artists, audience – everyone loved it except for me who had to take care of it. Anyway… one day, my fifty-seven-year-old boss walks into the gallery with his twenty-year-old French girlfriend and says she’s part of the team. And yes, she was beautiful. I think my colleague best described her at the time: “Dude, she’s so f**king hot I look at her ass and I wanna f**k this stapler.” Canadians.

So from that day going to work was a real joy. I always thought French accent was the most annying thing from a person’s mouth but when she said something like, “Ooooh zhis so interessaant,” I did want to go f**k a stapler. She didn’t talk much but really knew how to spray her Emporio Armani everywhere. It smelled like s**t, but all the guys endured it. All the other female colleagues thought she’s the most disgusting thing that happened to the gallery. Fair play to them. After about a week since Lolita’s (I’ll address her as she is from now) arrival, the perfume spraying thing had to stop because she began spraying at the artists’ works. No one had the balls to tell her to stop because she was the boss’ girlfriend. So I had to tell her.

“Lolita, I really like your perfume but please don’t spray it on the artists works.”

I even said it with a handsome smile.

Thought we could become good friends. But that’s where it went ALL WRONG.

The next day after work, my boss stomps out of the elevator, and points an angry, sweaty finger at me and says, “You, my office.” I was shocked because he was never angry at me before and did not know what I did wrong. I had to follow him to his office. I mean, what other choice did I have?

So I walked into his office, he doesn’t even offer me to take a seat and I just stood there across the table like a high school student who just got caught cheating on an exam. He said that he’s concerned about the way I was treating my colleagues and if I should learn how to work with people. That’s when I understood what was going on but I still stood there, silent, with a WTF on my face. After he was done talking, I tried explaining but he just cut me off with a “I don’t want to hear it.” Felt like a teenager.

Everyone asked me what happened but I just told them it was no big deal. I was embarrassed and shocked I got owned by a twenty-year-old chick. After a few days, Lolita was exposed of her bad personality anyway because it turned out she was sparying her Armani at the artists’ works because they were disgusting and she was spraying at her colleagues because they’re poor. Even the guys couldn’t take that but they all kept quiet because she’s the boss’s girlfriend.

Then one day, I had to stay after working hours to finish some work and Lolita stayed as well waiting for her boss. It was an uncomfortable situation where she’d think I might hate her if I didn’t speak to her. But I still kept quiet because I was afraid she might tell my boss worse things or maybe exaggerate by telling him I was hitting on her. Anyway, I was still working and she just sat there waiting. At one moment I thought she left because she disappeared for about thirty minutes.

But that’s when she yelled, “Help!!!!!!!!” The gallery’s toilet was inside the gallery, led to a passage next to an exhibiting space so her “Help!” was loud and clear. While walking to the toilet I thought, “What now??” but I knocked and politely asked her, “Lolita, do you need help?”

“Yes!! Please come in!”

And so I entered…….

I saw………

I smelled………

She conquered…..

Infront of me was a beautiful annying French girl in the middle of a s**t arena and next to her was an erupting toilet.

I couldn’t help it. I yelled, “What the f**k!”

And she just kept yelling help! Help! I took out all the toilet paper as possible and started to clean her s**t. She just stood outside watching me clean her own s**t off the floor and kept murmuring some s**t in French. I felt sorry for her because it was obviously a terrifying situation for her but I angrily told her to help. That’s when she grabbed the boss’s cat and threw her at her own s**t. I still cannot understand why she did that but the cat, surprised, with Lolita’s s**t all over its body ran around the white gallery leaving s**t marks everywhere. Lolita was crying, tears went down her make-up. She pulled out her perfume and started sparying at her own s**t. The mixture of designer brand perfume for women and brown s**t did not mix as I thought. The scene was horrible, the smell was horrible. I threw up on the middle of the bathroom floor. I threw up so hard tears came off of my eyes as well. Lolita saw this and threw up as well. For f**k sake..

That’s when my boss came back. He yelled, “Eple (I’ll address myself as Eple), what have you done??”

I looked at his face, with vomit still in my mouth, holding a s**t-stained set of paper towels on my right hand and told him it all came from his girlfriend’s arsehole. As soon as I told him that, Lolita ran out of the room and me and my boss stayed up cleaning the bathroom.

After we were done I asked him if he’s going to call her. He didn’t say anything and I never saw Lolita from that day.

It took me really long to write but that’s my experience with woman at work, her perfume, and more.