Pynchon

No death talk this evening. Instead I want to write about a bully, the disgusting thing he said at lunch today, and the fact that I shamefully said nothing when I definitely should have said something.

There are two guys in my office. Their names are John Rodent and Phil Dodd. Phill Dodd is being bullied by John Rodent.

Phil Dodd is an amiable guy. Big, overweight, clumsy and kind of naive. He is that that legendary thing: An innocent man. He likes to laugh, has a childlike sense of humour, takes joy in his life and is easy to wind up, if you are that way inclined. I like Phil a lot. I certainly don't think he is the sharpest tool in the box, but he is a genuinely nice and kind man. Nothing hidden or deceitful about him at all. It would be very easy to laugh at him. I try to take great care to laugh with him.

John Rodent is a very clever man. Kind of... er... rodent like. Stick thin, moneyed, sharp, a go-getter with the kind of arrogance that sometimes goes with that. Somebody told John a long time ago that he was funny and I think that he feels to need to prove his funniness with every-single-fucking-word that comes out of his mouth. It's a bit much when everything you say to John is used a material for some oh-so-clever bit of word play or a witty quip. It's so tiresome to constantly have to watch everything that you say. (Of course I am a sarcastic fucker when I want to be, and if John says something to me, then yer Pynchon is going to say something back.)

John Rodent looks at Phil Dodd like he is subhuman and treats him as such. He takes the piss out of him. He berates him in front of everybody, and gives full flow to some really offensive comments.

Phil is going to be a Father. He announced it last week. Of course there was fun to be had. ("Who's the father, Phil?" and "Your girlfriend didn't tell me she was pregnant the last time I was in bed with her".)

Phil is made up about the prospect about being a Father. I have never seen a man as happy. The only sad thing, that we found out today in fact, is that Phil's Girlfriend's Mother has recently died. It happened so recently, in fact, that the funeral still has not taken place. I think it is next week.

And upon hearing this, John said, "Did she die because the sign painter in your little town didn't want to change the population number sign?"

You what?

Silence.

Phil looked at John and said, "That's not funny", gathered up his sandwich and left.

Silence.

The guy sitting next to me looked at John, looked at me, got up and left. The girl sitting next to John frowned and carried on eating. Slowly. Somebody else shook their head and looked at nothing.

I looked at John, said, "I have to go" and I went.

I caught up with Phil on the stairs.

"He's a twat. Fuck him."

"Thanks, but don't worry about it", said Phil.

But I do, because I should have said something at the table where everybody could have heard me.

Indecent, disgusting and callous man. I hope John never loses anybody.

Fucking bully.

Labels: Sad