Nervous Habits

The office can be a very stressful place. Deadlines, high stress and bad coffee all play resounding roles in the orchestra of workday difficulties. Because of this, each individual develops their own coping mechanisms to withstand these difficulties and get through the day (relatively) unscathed.

Some people twitch. Foot jiggling, pencil drumming, finger tapping expulsions of energy burst forth, riddling the office with a medley of rhythms that mimic the nervous jumps of a belly ill-at-ease.

Some people twirl their hair. (I admit I am one of them.) Wrap around finger, flip through palm, pull across face, realize what a ninny I look like, drop and pretend it didn't happen, repeat. (The more stressful the day, the more curly the easy-to-reach ringlets around my face.)

And one person... one less-than-lovable, pain-in-my-sitting-bits individual who comes in to visit on occasion... picks at his underwear.

We're not talking about a covert gesture here.

This is a full blown Reach-Around-The-Back-And-Pull-Firmly motion that cannot be construed as anything but the plucking of posterior-harnessing apparatus from the crevice it so desperately attempts to contain.

Immediately in front of me.

As he looks me in the eye.

At first I thought it was an uncomfortable coincidence - that I just happened to ALWAYS enter a conversational triste with him when he had his hand at the back of his inseam and an oblivious look on his face.

This is not the case.

A coincidence would entail my arrival at the situation while it is in a current state of happening. This would be more to the point if I ever actually approached this individual while he was in mid-pluck of the aforementioned unmentionables. (Or, indeed, at all... As he typically approaches me, this is not the case.)

The typical course of events, however, goes more like this:

"SUNNY!"

"Yes? How can I help you today?"

"I need you to *pick* take care of (X,Y,Z) because I *pick pick* owed it to someone yesterday and you're the closest thing I have to an assistant even though I don't work here." *pick pick pickity pick*

"Yes, dear. Thy will be done."

*end of picking, retreat of individual*

It is at this juncture that I can only assume this man's skivvies to be the source of his power, and that he is rendered speechless without direct contact.

Thus, we arrive at the Dear EngineerFriend moment for today:

Public Service Announcement to Fearful Individuals

Do not fear me. Although my kind is foreign to you, I assure you that your power source is safe in your britches, and I will not attempt to snitch it or defeat you. However, I would appreciate if you would take to tapping your pencil or badmouthing your peers instead of fiddling about with your undershorts.

With Love,

Sunny