I love the anane and banal chatter. It comforts me to have proof that I really am smarter than anyone in this company. In fact, it's so exciting that next time I'm going to wear body armour. I don't want to make it too easy for all the backstabbers.
The chief moron actually waved me over to his circle. Only to hand me his drink and ask me for a refill.
Grrr...I don't believe, waiter, is part of my job description. My many talents does not include forced labour.
He never once introduced me to his fellow managers or the corporate bigwigs that he was talking to. Of course, I have no right to know anything. In the corporate food chain, I am plankton. When you refer to them later, my shrewd deductions will identify them.
Note to self: Plan near death experience right before the next scheduled office party. The idiot manager might excuse me from attending. Though I doubt it. Who would he trust to get his refills? Yes, I will have a refill for him.