Sometimes in life, there are certain people you meet who you just can’t wrap your head around. Like they are so off-kilter that you’re not quite sure how they’re managing to live amongst the rest of us comfortably. Like, shouldn’t they seek out their fellow weirdoes (yes, this is the correct spelling for the plural of weirdo) while having contests to see who can be the most outlandish and eccentric or something, right?
I have one of these at my job. I don’t really have any function to actually deal with her on a work level, but she sits in the same area as me and I just can’t help but notice her. I’m only in this building roughly once a week so these observations have taken place over quite a span of time and I was finally given the inspiration I needed by another coworker of mine when she said to me “She might be the biggest weirdo ever. You might have to blog about her.” The universe biffed me in the head and I thought, “Why didn’t I think of that?”
So that brings us here. Of course we’ll have to name her so I’m going to go with Crazy Cat Lady or CCL for short. (I swear to god, she just burst out into a fit of hysterical giggles as I’m typing this. I hope she’s not psychic.) So CCL is, of course, obsessed with her cats. All four of them. One of which is one of those freaky little hairless things and of course, this one is her favorite. Or, “My baaaayyyyyybeeeeeee!!” as she loves to squeal. Now, I have three cats myself, but I also am able to hold down a life outside of my furry creatures. CCL? Not so much. If you so much as mention an animal in her pressence, you will automatically be subject to a photo album of her babies and thier various personality traits.
I realize that being bohemian and artsy is sort of in style and cool right now, but she’s outside that realm. This woman is somewhere in her late thirties, lives alone save for her four precious shnookums and rides a bicycle with a basket on the front of it to work. I wonder where she parks that bad boy. I’ll have to take a look around the parking lot when I leave.
She has hair that’s longer than any self respecting woman in her thirties should really be wearing it, and she’s recently adorned herself with rhinestone encrusted cat-eye glasses a la Lisa Loeb circa 1994’s “Stay (I missed you)” video. Her desk has been thoroughly decorated with a veritable sea of unnecessary crap including a wooden snake figurine perched precariously atop her computer monitor, juggling balls, a tiny globe, a bamboo lamp, several different kinds of rocks, carpet samples, a silver RV figurine circa 1959 and a pink construction helmet. I mean, we work for an investment bank, not Miss Cleo’s Tarot Card Readings, at which job I would assume this desk decoration would be commonplace. I and a few other coworkers have also witnessed, on several different occasions, her eating honey with a spoon straight out of the jar whilst staring off into space in front of her computer.
She also has several different voices. I have heard her speak in a normal tone of voice on one rare occasion so I know that she is capable of it, but she very rarely uses that one. I really thank god that she chose cats over dogs, because the voice in which she normally speaks would drive any dog in a three mile radius absolutely insane. It’s this extremely high pitched annoying voice that’s normally associated with equally annoying Saturday morning cartoon shows like Spongebob Squarepants or high school girls from the Valley. How she conducts business like this is absolutely beyond me. She also giggles uncontrollably at the drop of a hat in a similarly annoying way. Her giggle actually uses the syllables “hee hee hee” in rapid high pitched succession.
Now today, I’m at the same location as her and I generally keep to myself and just do whatever it is that I’m doing, but I just couldn’t help overhearing her popping up over her cubicle wall and asking one of the guys she works with if he happens to have any lighter fluid. Rightfully so, the coworker asks her what she needs it for. She says, “Oh, I’m trying to get these stickers off of the side of my computer and I just thought I’d use lighter fluid.” I’ll let that one sink in.
So they proceed to have a conversation on what the best method to remove said stickers would be and he’s trying to convince her that maybe Windex or alcohol can do the trick. But no. She’s quite insistent upon the lighter fluid. I’m wondering if she’s maybe finally had enough and she’s planning on blowing up the building using lighter fluid and sticker friction. Thank god no one carries lighter fluid around in their pockets anymore.