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Start looking for a new job.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
I know you’re supposed to make eye contact when talking to new people, but how far do you take it—the occasional glance (if so, how many seconds?) or a continuous full-lock?
It ain’t a full-lock and it ain’t a glance—it’s something in-between. But it’s very important to get it right, ’cos it’s not comfortable being around people who can’t look you in the eye when they’re having a conversation. They seem dodgy. Whatever you do, though, don’t stare—if your eyes are bugging out like you’re some kind of nutter, that ain’t cool. To me, it’s all about giving off a warm vibe; making others feel at ease. Maybe if you stop counting how many seconds there are between every blink, it’ll come naturally.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
My colleague (the next cubicle over) has terrible body odour. How can I break the news to him gently—or is there a way of dealing with the smell without having to confront him?
Fuck I take a shower ever day, so it pisses me off when other people don’t give their friends and colleagues the same courtesy. Unfortunately, though, there’s no painless answer to your problem. You could move cubicles, I suppose. Or put an anonymous gift of deodorant on his desk. But the best solution is to confront him—in a nice way. Say, “Next time you’re in the bath, why don’t you try turning on the taps?”
Dear Dr. Ozzy,
Excuse my French, but my boss is an arsehole. His idea of management is to boast about every pathetic little thing he does while belittling everyone else’s achievements. How can I get him to change his ways?
Why not get together with your colleagues who feel the same way and have an intervention? Or, if it’s a bigger company, complain to human resources (or whatever they call it). Failing that, leave. That’s what I used to do when I hated a job. Either that, or I behaved so badly—like stealing cows’ eyeballs from the slaughterhouse where I worked and putting them in girls’ drinks at the pub across the road—they kicked me out. Jobs are harder to find these days, of course, so that might not be a good idea. Unfortunately, that also makes idiots like your boss think they’re God.
Try not to give him the pleasure.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
A friend of mine visited my house the other day when I was recovering from a case of winter sniffles. When he came down with his own cold a few days after, he sent me an angry e-mail telling me that I should have warned him I had germs. Is this fair?
No. How does this guy know where he got the cold from, anyway? And even if you did give it to him, what’s everyone supposed to do, walk around in germ-sealed plastic bags wearing face masks and rubber gloves all the time? Give me a break.
Dear Ozzy:
I play football after work with my colleagues, and last week my boss broke my ankle with a dirty tackle. I’m furious with him, and want revenge—but I don’t want to get fired. Any ideas?
Two words, Guglielmo: shit happens. If you’re go
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
My neighbour plays his Elton John record collection at full-blast every Sunday morning—the one day of the week when I get to sleep in. No offense to Sir Elton (I know he’s a friend of yours) but what can I do to banish “Rocket Man” from my life for good?
Ask him nicely to turn it down, and if that doesn’t work, buy some earplugs—unless you want to start a feud. Also, let’s face it: the situation could be worse. He could be playing Justin Bieber.
♦ He makes himself Employee of the Month. Every month.
♦ He docks your salary for the day you take off to go to your mum’s funeral.
♦ He uses the stopwatch on his iPhone to time your toilet breaks.
♦ He thinks the stopwatch on his iPhone is a “pretty cool app.” But not as cool as “Pull My Finger”—which he plays with in his office while everyone else is working their butts off.
♦ He gets you wasted after work, then shaves off your eyebrows when you pass out. Oh, hang on a minute… that was me…
♦ He gives you a choice between working at the weekend or giving him a blowjob.
♦ He promotes people based on how many times they don’t work at the weekend.
♦ At a team-bonding event, he thinks it’s hilarious to shoot a paintball at your lovesack.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
How do you cope with people who plot against you, but are as nice as pie to your face?
Number one: don’t ever work in TV, ’cos the industry is crawling with back-stabber types. Number two: you don’t have to “cope” with them—just avoid them like the plague. Unless you’re wearing handcuffs or have been slammed in a prison cell, you don’t have to be in anyone’s company (although I know it can be difficult with co-workers and bosses). I mean, if someone has B.O., you don’t choose to sit next to them, do you? It’s same with people who have toxic personalities. If it’s an option, get up and walk away.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
Is it just me, or is it basically impossible for men to make new friends when they’re married with kids, given that the pub is now out of bounds (at least on a regular basis)?
That’s why God invented golf and fishing. Both of these things let men get out of the house and socialise with each other without getting a stage-five bollocking the next day. The trouble is, if you don’t have the patience for that stuff—I certainly don’t—there ain’t many other options. And it’s not as if someone like me can go out for the occasional quiet pint, either. One whiff of the old devil’s brew, and the next thing you know it’s 4 a.m., I’m blasted to kingdom come, and trying to drive my car through the front door. So for me the last refuge has always been the toilet. You might not make any new friends in there, but when the kids are rioting and the wife’s on your case, I highly recommend it as a way of taking a quick break.
Dear Dr. Ozzy:
Is it worth staying in touch with old friends—from high school, etc.—when you no longer have anything in common. Or is it better and more honest to just make a clean break?