Token People: The Space Invader

Blanket statement Alert: In any given work environment where at least ten people must interact, there will be one person who can easily be identified as a "token" something-or-other.

To illustrate what this means, think of any recent sitcom you've ever watched. If it is oriented around a white family or group of friends you'll find the token black guy (except Friends and Seinfeld for some reason). If oriented around a black people, there will be a token white dude. Two Guys and a Pizza Place needed a token girl. Most of the time, every character is a token something-or-other. There's a fat guy, a moron, a gay guy, a hot chick, a perpetual bachelor, a refrigerator, a goat, and a murder weapon. Don't think about it, just accept it.

A comedian (Emo Philips I think) once joked, "Mother always said every time I get on a bus, there's a werdo on it. I could never find him."

Your workplace is likely filled with token people too. There is one particular token person I would like to discuss because they are a danger to others, themselves, and the earth as a whole. Look around. You should be able to find one of these. If you can't, it's probably you.

The token space invader. There he is! Always getting up in your grill, leaning over you at your desk, standing way too close, talking directly into your mouth like its a microphone and he is delivering an important public service announcement. As an added bonus, this is usually the guy who's breath is laced with a pungent tribute to his recent consumption of coffee and something similar to a partially decomposed bologna and cabbage sandwich (quick reader pole: If I included mayonnaise here would it be too much?). And, for the token twist of irony, this guy is equipped with an unquenchable thirst for...an inextinguishable burning desire for....an unfulfillable need for....conversation. He'll talk about anything at any time. If you walk away, he will follow. If you say your busy, he'll continue his story anyway, after letting you know it'll be a "quick one". If you take a phone call, even if it sounds very important, he'll wait. If you walk to your car, start it, and drive away he'll hang on to the door handle and drag beside you down the street, talking all the while.

Despite the fact that everyone is uncomfortable, no one takes action to stop it. Sure, they exchange their unpleasant run-ins and space invader stories, each trying to out-creepy the other. Once in a while someone will offer him an Altoid or a case of tic tacs. But these don't solve the problem. Neither does explaining the problem to him. You could look him in the eye and tell him "Back away! This is my personal space and I don't want you polluting it!" and he would think of it as an invitation to tell you about the hilarious antics of a cat he found in a dumpster. Management knows of the problem, but they ignore it saying "He means well.". I guess that's manager-speak for "He's cheap and he has dirt on the owner."

This guy must be stopped! Danger follows him and his ilk. (I've always wanted to work the work "ilk" into a sentence. Done!). My aunt once tried to escape a space invader but was disoriented by the noxious breath and fell into an open manhole where she was swept away by a river of raw sewage. We never saw her again*. That makes this fight personal to me. That is why I hope you will join me in battling this office menace.

It won't be easy. After all, this is a token space invader. You are required to have one on the payroll. When you eliminate one, another will take his place. That's why you can't just kill him. You have to make him use all of his vacation days right away each year. Send him invitations to timeshare presentation out of town. Most of them offer free stuff like toasters, airline miles, calculators, coffee, and bologna/ cabbage sandwiches. Free stuff attracts these types.

Once he has used his vacation, you must go for the sick days. A little salmonella in the coffee cup should do the trick. Careful now! Not too much. He just needs to feel bad enough to stay home a few days. If it doesn't work, try E.Coli. Studies have shown that some space invaders build immunity to certain strains of bacteria, viruses, and verbal insults.
Once he has used his sick days though, he will come to work faithfully if he is even slightly mobile. Offer him an emergency double knee replacement. Don't pay for the surgery, just make it necessary. Use your imagination. Tonya Harding isn't busy these days. Or, for a less illegal option, sometimes these people will respond if you send them calendar invitations to work events outside of the office, especially if they think you will be there. Make up as many as you can until he finally figures out that you won't really be there. That's when you get a coworker to pick up where you left off.

Using these ideas and some of your own, you might be able to get somewhere between 12 and 22 weeks of token-space-invader-free existence per year. And that's better than 52 straight weeks of face-melting one way conversations and being trapped between the toilet and the bathroom door while learning why America should adopt the metric system. It will also drastically reduce your chances of being washed away by sewer rapids.

Thanks for reading and taking this seriously. Next time we discuss token people: the guy who comes to work in the morning thinking about lunch and how to get involved with yours.

*A note about my Aunt: I say that "we" never saw her again but actually my uncle did see her once more. Eleven days after she was washed away by sewer rapids, she arrived on her front porch, dirty, smelly, battered, incoherently babbling. My uncle stood her up, turned her around, and pointed her down the street. She shuffled off into the sunset....and that is the point from which none of us ever saw her again.