I got to work early this morning, as I usually do, and was alone in the work area, reading a book. (It doesn't matter how early you get there, you can't start work until the appointed hour. More on that later.) So I was caught by surprise when some old dude walks in and starts grilling me for information.
Old Creepy Dude: Are you on Project X?
Me: Uh, yeah. (Thinking all the while, who the fuck are you?)
OCD: How long have you been here?
Me: A couple weeks, I guess (still thinking, who the fuck are you and why do you want to know?)
OCD: Are any of these seats open?
Me: I don't know. (WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!?!?!?!?!?)
OCD: That was my seat.
He indicates the seat in which I am sitting, and suddenly, I don't care who the fuck Old Creepy Dude is, he is infringing on my space in an unacceptable way. I begin to look for things that can be used as a weapon in case he loses it completely, but first I answer:
Me: Well, not any more.
At this point, the project manager comes into the room and saves me. Or he saves Old Creepy Dude, who probably was only seconds away from being killed with a pen or something. Whatever. In any event, it turns out that OCD used to be on this project, was called back because they needed more bodies and, as is typical of contract attorneys, was unable to read instructions. He was well over an hour early and wasn't supposed to be in the work space at all. He was being brought back for an aspect of the project that was working elsewhere, even though he apparently used to occupy the seat I am in. Whole thing creeped me out.
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