Not me, but my cousin...
My cousin is a manager for a major telecommunications and internet provider that shall remain nameless. In her earlier days as a team leader, she had the pleasure of managing a middle aged woman who we shall call Andrea for the sake of preserving her skanky integrity. Not only was this woman unspeakably vile in manner, she also had a serious case of what our American friends might call "cooties". Only for real, rather than imaginary girl/boy germs we all get hung up on as kids. By all accounts, she minged on levels that human beings holding down responsible jobs should not be allowed to ming. She had mousy hair that was greasy and lank on account of the lack of washing and black, black grime underneath all her fingernails. Her hands were always filthy and her clothes covered in bits of food and general non-specific stains.

But the icing on the cake was the lice. All over her hair. On a woman of almost 40 years of age.

My cousin came to realise that the reason Andrea's fingernails were always so filthy was because she was constantly scratching her head and picking up what can only be described as nit shit. On one occasion whilst talking to her on work matters, my cousin watched in open-mouthed horror as a louse of almost half a centimetre in length vacated Andrea's hairline and went on a trek across her forehead. You could see the bastard things from feet away they were so big, and once she'd noticed them (and pointed them out to her colleagues, naturally), they realised that her head was pretty much a crawling mass from the hairline up.

After a referral to Personnel she was suspended pending a wash and a serious de-lousing. What makes it even more unbelievable was that she faked a letter from her doctor to say she'd been treated to come back into work when she hadn't been. Even if I'd been chemically peeled in a bath of acid there's no way I would ever return to a workplace from which I was suspended for being a stinky fucker, particularly if I had done nothing to improve my personal hygiene. It would appear she was quite attached to her little friends, and eventually the company had to let her go.

Oh and by the way rogerzilla, can I recommend keeping hold of the paper towel that you used to dry your hands after your toilet soujourn (or a piece of loo roll) to open the door and disposing of it later rather than sullying yourself with other people's door-handle arse-germs? Works for me
(EricPhillips, Thu 22 Mar 2007, 19:10, Reply)