Bros before Hos

At work I sit in what's called a "bullpen configuration" by the people at Herman Miller, designers and manufacturers of modern office spaces. There are four of us who sit in pretty close quarters. It's well-designed, if I must say so myself; but I was the project manager on this new office space, so I'm biased. At any rate, my task was to fit four people into a very small space, one person who is the IT manager, and she needs room for all her cables and computers and laptops and keyboards, and one is the CFO, and of course he needed quiet, privacy, and status. The third person is a trainer who trains new staff and teaches them how to drive a forklift, and warehouse safety, and what the differences are between four dozen varieties of tangerines, etc. Fitting him in was easy, because he had no say in the matter. He took his position just as the finishing touches were being put on the bullpen. The fourth person is me.

So, we sit in a bullpen. We have no privacy from each other, but no one else can see us unless they actually move our flexible wavy screen that blocks the opening aside and enter the bullpen. Most people, including our CEO, are rather polite about this. From the outside, people say, "Knock Knock" or "hi... can I come in?"

The only person who doesn't do this is Leggy, the boss of the trainer guy. She feels entitled to come barging right in, gangly arms and legs flying, talk to him in her loud screechy voice even though the other three of us are working in complete silence, and stand in the non-existent space between him and me so that I can't move my chair. She also feels entitled to tell him he looks tired, needs more rest, needs to shave, needs to get married, and "I thought you said you were going to cut your hair! You didn't cut your hair! You said you were going to! You didn't!" The guy is easygoing, really good-looking; he's Japanese-Irish, about six foot five, and has long black wavy hair which he keeps in a low ponytail. And unlike a lot of the people I work with, he doesn't smell. Leggy is homely, dresses like a fool, is really rude, and has wiry hair that's about 1/3 black and 2/3 iron gray, to her shoulders and with no particular style, and she has a mean-looking little mouth and silver braces. She also wears shorts to work. Not long shorts or pedal pushers or culottes or clamdiggers. Shortie shorts.
I really don't know where she gets off criticizing anyone's style or grooming.

So the other day she came barging in, and in the middle of berating him about one thing or another, she sees that he has this "Bros before Hos" thing on his desktop.
Now, the IT manager and I had seen it earlier, and we thought it was funny, first of all because it's satirical and it IS funny, and secondly because we both prefer Barack Obama to Hillary Clinton, and it seems most of our workplace is pro-Hillary, and damned vocal about it. Plus, there aren't any other people besides us who will see this guy's desktop, so we are pretty much the extent of who could possibly be offended. But Leggy immediately bellowed, "I FIND THAT OFFENSIVE. THAT IS SEXIST AND RACIST. TAKE IT DOWN. NOW." First of all, she should have told him that privately. Secondly, we're all people of color, and she's white. Thirdly, she's the most classist, offensive person I know, always on and on about fat people and fat children and fat America. (I think she has an eating disorder. She eats her lunch out of a Tupperware smaller than a deck of cards, and when we had a potluck, she asked the woman who made pigs in blankets if there was any nutritional value in them.)

The Bros before Hoes thing is actually a tee shirt design. Oh, how I would love to buy it, wear it, and get sent home on a beautiful sunny day soon! I could probably get the IT manager in on this with me.