Mr. Balls

It is your second week at the new job.

The work is challenging, but rewarding. You find yourself once again cursing your old job, which — during the year and a half in which you were employed — was of no benefit whatsoever.

Except, that’s not entirely true.

The job itself had as much merit as a pile of dried faeces, but the bizarre folk that were your co-workers provided you with no end of entertainment. Your new job, however, pales in comparison; sure, a few people have their quirks, but there simply isn’t anyone around of the caliber you’d grown used to.

That is, until Mr. Balls decided to announce himself to the world.

You are seated at your desk, trying to wrap your head around an extremely technical piece of Japanese writing. Mr. Balls sits at the cubicle directly opposite yours, the partition between which is high enough that you’ve never actually seen Mr. Balls, only heard his voice.

ballzAnd seen his slippers.

You’re gnawing on the end of your thumbnail and staring at a page of nigh-impenetrable text when someone approaches, starts engaging Mr. Balls in conversation.

“Hey,” the newcomer begins. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. I’ve got this weird rash thing going on, though. I’ve got like itchy-rash disease!” Short burst of laughter. “Is that even a disease?” Mr. Balls chides himself.

“A rash, huh? Where?”

“Right here. But also on my balls!”

“Your balls?!” comes the startled reply.

“Yeah, my balls! Look!”

“Dude, I don’t want to see your balls!”

“No, not my balls! Here. Look.”

“Whoa…”

“I know! And it’s on my balls!”

By this point, you’re plugging your nose to hold back laughter at the sheer number of times the word kintama, or “balls,” has already been uttered in this short exchange. Just then, you hear someone else walk up.

“Hey guys,” a female voice calls out, “what’s going on?”

“Mr. Balls here has a rash — and it’s on his balls!”

“His balls?!”

At this, you’re reaching for your iPod and cranking the volume to drown out the rest of the conversation before you lose it completely.

8 Responses

  1. Blimey, I hope he washes his hands after he goes to the bathroom.

  2. Ok, what you have to do next time they’re having the itchy-balls conversation is stand up with your head well above the cubicle partitions and with the straightest face possible, yell out “Look, we’ve all got rashes on our balls! Now, shut the fuck up!” Then, quietly sit back down and resume your work.

    If nothing else, you’ll become a character in some Japanese guy’s (or gal’s) office blog.

  3. I’d like to hear the story of how he got the less than pleasant itch…

  4. I’ve been keeping an ear out for any new developments, but for the past couple days, the only things he’s been saying is “Whoa!” (a lot) and “Score! Fried chicken!”

  5. Is he rubbing the fried chicken on his balls or something?

  6. I laughed only because I’ve been an unwitting bystander in several such disturbing conversations in the past about bits of people’s bodies/various ailments they are suffering from that I would much rather have never heard about (especially if you have to shake their hands later lol)

    but yeah. ball rash. that can’t be good.:/

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