1) The curator. She's a curator! In every sense of the word. She's this well-put-together 50-60 something petite Dutch-Italian woman who speaks a zillion languages and sometimes wears the giant Sophia Loren glasses because she effing can. Her hair is perfect, her suits are perfect, she operates with an air of confidence and ease that you don't even secretly resent her for because she's also kind and gracious. I imagine that her husband looks like a silver-haired 60ish Euro businessman in an Armani suit. She isn't bitter about adjuncting and if she complains about her students, it's only in a vague, philosophical sense. Ex: "They tend to personalize their thoughts about the material too much. 'I like this painting,' or 'I don't like this painting' - as if that's even what it's about." She's the person in the office that I always wish I could be more like but I know I just don't have it in me.
2) The crazy. You've certainly met this character before: s/he can bring any group discussion to a screaming halt with her/his persistent question-asking about things that are a) off-topic or b) on-topic but somehow unimportant at the moment.
Example:
Administrator: One thing I want to bring to your attention is the need to encourage students to stay at home if they have the flu-like symptoms. If they need medical attention they can go to Van Meter Hall. This will dramatically cut down on the likelihood of a swine flu epidemic. I would also like to encourage you wash your hands after using the bathroom. Also, I would -
Crazy: Where is the bathroom in Van Meter Hall?
Administrator: To the left as you go in the front doors.
Crazy: But where is this Van Meter Hall?
Administrator: It's on your map.
Crazy: Where is it?
Administrator: It's on your map.
Crazy: This map is so difficult to read. Is it by the chapel?
Administrator: Yes, you'll see it when you walk towards the chapel.
Crazy: And the chapel is to the east of this building?
Administrator: Yes...sort of northeast, I guess.
Crazy: Northeast
The particular Crazy in my office is all about entertainment value. She's a middle-aged woman, has a very strong Israeli accent, reminds me a lot of the ladies at the Jewish Center I'd meet when I went to visit my grandmother. She mutters to herself all the time while in the office - which would be annoying except that her not-very-internal dialogue is hilarious. Ex/ Everyone got a flyer in their mailbox that introduced Corky (swear-to-god that's her name), a student assistant responsible for coordinating prospective visits this fall. Whatever, I threw mine away the second after I read it. Crazy sits down, takes out the flyer, reads it carefully, and then, very slowly and under her breath, like a Russian villian in a Bond film, says, "Who is this...Corky?"
This sentence never fails to crack me up. I keep saying the line to E and Montoya, with the heaviest accent I can muster. I say it about 30 times a day. It's funny every time.
3) The bitter/angry. You all have that one co-worker who is fucking outraged about everything, has the worst students/workload ever, and is constantly being thwarted by TPTB. Mine is like a blonde Kathy Bates. This is a complete recreation of our first meeting:
The first question I asked B/A was how long she'd been at the college. Her reply was short and sweet, "For fucking ever."
The second question I asked was if she taught MWF. Her reply, "We all teach MWF. You can fucking ask to teach Tu-Th but you'll never get it because all the fucking full-timers ask for those days. I always ask for Tu-Th and I've never gotten it ONCE, not fucking ONCE. Forget about Tu-Th, just forget about it." I decided not to share that I teach Tu-Th.
I had a few "learning accomodation" emails from the Academic Center for Excellence alerting me to students with learning disabilities. B/A said: "Oh, we fucking love the learning disabled here. For 40 grand a year, they can get certified for whatever fucking learning disability they want. It's our thing here."
She left to go to the bathroom.
B/A's rant after coming back from the bathroom: "There's no fucking soap in the women's bathroom. No fucking soap. Excuse me, but I like to wash my hands after I take a dump. We should be able to wash our hands with soap. We shouldn't be made to work like this, with shit all over our hands. There's been no soap for 8 months. EIGHT months. I want some fucking soap. I've worked here for how fucking long and I don't even get fucking soap. I'm going to get some fucking soap in the women's bathroom." She started to type, angrily.
She asked what department I was teaching in. "History? You're lucky. There are only 4 students in this school with an IQ over 100, and they're all in history."
She asked how my first day teaching was. I said no students had dropped the class so maybe that was a good sign. She replied, "Oh they won't drop your class. They're too fucking passive for that. About mid-September you'll have to go right up to them and check for a pulse, they're so fucking passive."
At this point, fourth officemate came into the office and said something about how her students lacked the ability to pick up on sarcasm and irony. B/A said, "Yeah? You know what? So do dogs and animals. And that's not a fucking coincidence." She left to go teach her class (Intro to writing and rhetoric). That was my first run-in with Bitter/Angry. She's so bitter and angry! I wish I had a webcam on her at all times.
4) The co-conspirator. This is the person who gets that the others are crazy and will laugh at them with you. This is my favorite person. Better yet is that she's even more dark-humored than I am. Ex/ by way of explaining to her class that she will only rarely accept late assignments, she said, "So please, let's keep all of our grandparents alive and keep the drama to a minimum." And after class she had a bawling freshman on her hands with a dying grandfather. We both thought that that was kind of funny.
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