When I first started at my job, I already knew one of the guys I’d be working with. As he showed me around, he came upon this woman and he told me that they called her TMI Lady. “What does she say,” I asked.
“You’ll see,” he replied.
For the first few weeks, I didn’t see. She seemed like a normal person. Then, she apparently got comfortable with me. It started off small. Usually, it was a story about her and her husband that wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t something you’d share with someone you just met a few weeks ago.
One day, we were talking about some actress (I don’t remember who anymore) and I said something about how that actress looked like she had fake breasts. All of the sudden, she looks down at her own breasts and starts telling me that I wouldn’t want to see hers because they’re weird and misshapen. Ummmm…. What???
First of all, if that is true, why the hell would she tell anyone? Second, WTF??? And third, when did I say I wanted to see her breasts? All I said was there was a woman somewhere who looked like she had fake ones. I didn’t say a single word about hers.
I quickly got out of there and began watching what I said around her more closely.
About 8 months later, when Baby E was around 6 months old, we were talking again. She asked me what Mrs. Revis and I did for fun. I told her that we had a 6 month old daughter, so we had no free time. And if we did manage to squeeze out some free time, we would play video games together.
For some reason, she thought an appropriate response to that was, “My husband and I don’t have anal sex.”
Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why the hell would you ever say that to another person? What could’ve possibly possessed her to make her think that anyone other than her and her husband needed to know that?
I’m sure that my face was a mixture of disgust and confusion, but all she saw was the confusion because she elaborated. “I’m not against anal sex, or anything. I just can’t do it because it aggravates my hemorrhoids.”
What the everloving fuck?
I didn’t need to hear that. I sure as hell didn’t want to hear that. In fact, nobody on the planet other than her and her husband needs to know that.
From that point on, I did whatever I could to keep away from her. Luckily, she was only there for another six months after that. The pain she created still lives on, however, because they haven’t created a soap yet that will scrub away scarring memories like that one. For a while, I was able to push those things to the back of my mind and not think about them. Then another TMI Lady happened.
This one hasn’t said or done anything as bad as the first one yet, but she’s similar enough that she’s putting the old one back in my head. For instance, I was explaining something work related to the 17 year old girl that works with me. The TMI Lady walks into the room, looks right at her, starts scratching her chest, and declares, “My titty itches.”
Maybe if you washed it, that wouldn’t be an issue. Why don’t you go take a shower, clean it off real good, and stop talking about that shit in front of me? Why should I have to hear about it? And should you really be informing a 17 year old of your hygiene problems. I’m pretty sure she didn’t care about it either.
For future reference everyone, if you have anything personal to say about yourself, take it to someone else. I don’t want to hear it.