Moron of the day. (1)

This little blog is going to feature one of the many morons I work with so that everyone will be familiar later. We'll call him Mr. A. Derive what you will from that. Mr. A has worked at our department for about 20 years which evidently entitles him to sit in my bosses office with his feet on the desk watching tv all day. By the way, our entire department is an "out side" job. So that makes this oh so sneaky tv watching just a little more sore thumbish. Mr. A falls somewhere between 350 to 400lbs. Probably from all that hard labor he gets in every day. He wears his work shirt with pride in a size most plp wouldn't know existed. It hangs like a blue moo moo off the guys gigantic, evil, Santa belly and man boobs. He has a gravely voice and a scary mary black and gray beard that he loves to trim in the women's bathroom, leaving a speckle fest of hairs that resemble pubes in our one and only sink. I wouldn't care about Mr. A, nor be so rude about his plump stature, if he didnt hate me for no apparent reason. He manages to be pissed off every single day because I leave at 4 rather than 5. He fails to put together that I also come in an hour early in the morning. He fails to remember this every single day. I'm noting a pattern. Do I hear any tiddy baby fits when Im unlocking the big, pitch black warehouse in the mornings all by myself? No. Why? Because all the tiddy babies are at home sleeping. (I leave early because I am going to college, btw, not some woohoo I'm better than you defiance.) This is cleared with the boss. My job can be done at any time of day, so "8-5" isn't really a factor. I always get my work in on time or early. So I'm not seeing the big. But Mr. A has to throw his usual little girl fit every day, none the less. He's the kind of guy that laughs at jokes/insults that range around the quality of "well why don't you marry it!" Last week for example, when Mr. F, (the guy in his late 50's who has decided he likes me and has for the 4 yrs Ive worked there... which he does in an oogey sort of seriel killer way. Remeber, Im gay. I'll feature him at a later date) ... anyway, Mr. F stood in the way of my sprint out the door at the end of the day, as he so often does. He threw an arm around me, which he also does far more than I care for, and unleashed this knee slapper, "So when are you going to start staying till 5 like the rest of us?" Mr. A busted out laughing, or more cackling, at this. Like it was the greatest "put me in my place" line ever. You would have thought they pantsed me or something. Mr. A and the rest of the guys were, by the way, furiously busy playing cards at this time. So, I responded, "Yeah, you guys look like you need a lot of help playing your cards." To which Mr. F blushed. I'm not sure why. Long story short, I've had more than one run in with Mr. A. Some have ended with me obliterating him in front of all the guys. Those times are my favorires. I can't remember why now, post tramatic stress probably blocked it out, but he really pissed me off once... so I launched into an absolute ego demolishing rant. To which he had no reply because he has no sense of come back. So he was just left to squirm like the 400lb evil santa he is in front of all the guys... who were also speechless. A battle of wits would really have to be all 25 guys against me, and even then, I would still have to give them a 10 point head start. Oh who am I kidding. I'd still destroy them.