I saw this article in the Chicago Tribune and thought it was worth sharing. How many of these people are in your office?

Mary Schmich
Office behavior the missing link to monkey house
Published May 30, 2003

Working in an office is like living in a submarine. You spend day after day, year after year, within sniffing distance of people who are not your intimates.

When you're on full alert, you understand that in this cramped public domain, you must protect your fellow travelers from your most primitive behavior. You know you are not allowed the full range of bodily expression a person may safely indulge in the privacy of a bedroom or a bathroom.

But all of us from time to time drift into our public private worlds, imagining that no one else can see, hear or smell us as we indulge our primal urges. From behind our imaginary shields we assault the senses and sensibilities of those around us.

Well, I don't. But, believe me, I know people who do.

I'm not talking about mere lapses of courtesy--the guy who speaks loudly on the phone about his prostate difficulties--but about the pure and simple gross stuff that proves we're not much removed from the baboons.

Baboon behavior in the office falls into some predictable categories, a few of which I will outline here. Feel free to turn right now to a more tasteful article. Or to contribute examples of your own.

The Gummy Guy. He snaps, crackles, pops and explodes gum bubbles so often and so loud that it makes not just your ears but your jaw hurt.

The Gummy Gal. She is very concerned with the environment, which is why she conserves her gum by sticking it between chews on whatever's handy. Her computer. Her Coke can. Your Coke can. Then she pops the hardened wad back in her mouth when she needs to chew again.

The Slurper. Who knew yogurt could be so noisy?

The Scratcher. His hands are in his armpits way too often. And that's when they're not somewhere even less attractive.

The Adjuster. You know what I mean.

The Foot Fetishist. She pads through the office barefoot. She returns to her desk and props her naked tootsies on her desk. Could she at least pull her skirt down?

The Foot Fetishist II. He does everything the barefoot gal does, only he does it in socks. Smelly, mismatched socks.

The Gassy Guy. You know what I mean.

Mr. Stinky. No, not the gassy guy. I mean Mr. Cool Cologne. Will someone please tell him that his after-shave doesn't get the girl, it gags her?

The Picker. She's got her finger in her nose.

The Picker II. She's got her fingers in her ear. The same fingers that were in her nose.

The Picker III. He can't keep his hands off that scab.

The Picker IV. You don't want to think about all the places his hands have been when he slips a fingernail between his teeth to ferret out some vegetable.

The Flushing Flosser. All of these baboon categories are based on true stories, but here's one verbatim: "This is so gross," says the teller, who can't wait to tell it. "There's this guy in the bathroom stall who flosses his teeth. You can hear it! Somebody flossing! In the stall! Enough of your efficiency, Mister!"

The Digger: He uses a push pin to excavate a wart, hoping his colleagues think the wart's a splinter. Honest, I am not making up any of these.

The Clipper. Snip, snip, snip. Some clippers stick to fingernails. Some stoop to clipping toes. Some make little piles of their products and leave them on display.

The Biter. Not as noisy as the clipper, but just as gross, especially when she litters her desk and the carpet with crescent moons. It's worse when she swallows.

The Plucker. When she's deep in thought, she plucks her hair out.

The Plucker II. Leaning into his computer screen, absorbed in thought, he plucks, plucks, plucks at his eyebrows. Or his mustache.

The Curious Sneezer. He honks and hacks into a Kleenex. And then checks it out.

The Smelly Luncher. The aroma of his meal sends those around him sickly lurching toward the bathroom.

The Literate Luncher. She dips her face into her food and shovels it in without taking her eyes off what she's reading.

The Nightmare. The person guilty of all the above.

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