Sexual satisfaction at work.

Have you ever noticed how most people handle a stapler? I did cause I love my stapler. It's blue and nice and we bonded from the get go.
Anyway, ever noticed how when people run out of staples in the middle of stapling some shit together they always double check they actually ran out by trying to staple the said shit a few more times. After no shit got stapled cause obviously there's no stables they huff and grumble.
That makes me laugh. No matter what I do at the moment that always makes me laugh like a mad person cause come on! What did you expect? The stapler fairy to magically staple it? No, it doesn't work that way, you gotta stop and go to the supply closet (cause there's never a fucking box of staples near by. Never. Ever. The minute you need one everyone around you just ran out of them. And when you ask they frantically search the drawers even though they know they either don't have any and they don't wanna look rude because people always take offence when someone doesn't even bother looking when they ask for something. Or they don't like you and wanna see you squirm and walk all the way to the dirty supply closet).

What about the photocopy machine? I used to think it's magical cause it copies things and you can put the stack of paper there and watch how every paper slides neatly and photo copy crap. Now I think it's evil.
Everytime I go to the photo copy room (Cause for some reason it's gotta have a whole room to itself. They sure love their privacy) someone's standing by the machine, moaning. Why you ask? I'll tell you why and not cause I'm a know it all but because obviously if you're reading this you want answers to life's most intriguing questions.
Back to the topic. Copy machine. Evil. Moaning. Why? Cause it'll copy at least 20/10000 pages and then gets stuck. And it likes doing it when you have a really annoying, bitching, PMSing customer waiting for you.
I always pray when I photo copy. Not to god, in case you wondered, I'm an atheist but I pray to the copy machine's lord.
I pet it and I prey.

I also found out there's some sexual satisfaction in stealing pens from the said supply closet.

So that's how I spend my work day, by drinking coffee, having sexual unappropriated encounter with pens and hide in the bathroom if I'm feeling extra lazy. Oh the glory of working 9 to 5 (or 8 to 6 cause I travel by buses. Oh glory of the stinking public transportation and being poor)