The Office Copier

So I've talked forever and a day about this weird woman at my work who once thrived on shrieking "Carrie Fuckin' Bradshaw!" and continues to love asking very young boys how old they think she is ("He totally thought I was 25, he couldn't believe it when I said I was 41!") and talking in circles relent-lent-lent-lessly. She dresses in skintight capris and strappy shoes and beachy tops. She wears different shades of brightly coloured eyeshadow to match her outfits and hot pink lipstick. I'm pretty sure she shops at le chateau despite being old enough to know better. She walks around the office repeating the same story at every single door 'til her tragic listener emails a coworker demanding an "urgent phone call". She carries her lunch every single day in a Holt Renfew bag because she shopped there once. You're getting where I'm going with this: she's a bit of a weirdy. Anyway, she's now taken it a step too far.

The other day as I was driving into our parking garage, I saw her behind me. I ignored her and went in, forgetting about it. Two minutes later, she was making a beeline into my office. She saw my car, she asked if it was new. I said we'd gotten it a while ago and she followed up with the fact that she loved it, it was so cute, she was thinking about getting one. Le sigh. I respond that, oh yeah, that it's a decent car, good on gas, cute, etc. And then she says:

"Well, I like yours. I think I will get the same one! The same colour and everything, I really like that colour! I am going to call this weekend!"

I proceeded to ignore her and type while she continued to go on and on and on in circles. In my head, I am seething. In fact, I'm questioning my own taste. Then I remember that she's done this before -- she consistently acts as if she's discovered bands people have been listening to for years. She got really angry with me for insinuating that Death Cab for Cutie were American, as she started listening to them in LUN-DUN (her pronunciation, not mine) on her 40th birthday. I find my mind wandering around her bevy of annoying traits 'til she exits to visit her next victim.

Anyway, she tells me today that she has her test drive appointment this weekend and "we might have matching cars next week!"

What the eff? I am so bloody irritated. I know that a gazillion people have this car and it's not exactly unique -- in fact, it's altogether trendy. And it's not like I invented the damn thing. What's my issue? Well, that one is mine. You don't see me buying the exact same something as someone else I see daily. I may love something of someone's, ask where they got it, and get something similar -- but it won't be identical. (I indeed did get a fun laptop bag after admiring Jen's, but mine is a different style and colour -- from the same store, from the same designer, but not the same.) Copying someone's exact car is effing weird. And annoying. Times a thousand. Dude, the last thing I ever want to be is your twin.

I swear to god, she's like the really, really jackassed character on some wacky sitcom. If she ever quit, I would truly run out of things to talk about.