Everyone has worked with a Dwight Schrute. For those of you who haven't jumped on the bandwagon yet—I mean the hilarious suck-up, dorky Dunder Mifflin salesman portrayed by Rainn Wilson on NBC's ""The Office.""
Dwight is quite possibly one of the most obnoxious and bizarre characters to ever grace the small screen. What makes his character so enticing is that Dwight is real to millions of people. He sits in the cubicle next to ours, plagues our working existence and you can't help but mess with him on a daily basis.
Dwight has a slew of peculiar characteristics that may leave you hoping there is no one like him at your office: He is a volunteer sheriff's deputy who lives on a beet farm and is too invasive in his co-workers' personal lives. His solution for everything is beyond idiotic. He believes he is superior to his peers in every way.
Larger than life? Hardly.
In fact, I have a Dwight Schrute sitting right next to me at work.
In an episode where health insurance plans are discussed, Dwight talks about his love for computerized medical records.
""I think one of the greatest things about modern America is the computerization of medical records,"" he said. ""As a volunteer sheriff I can look up anyone's psychiatric records or surgical histories. Yeast infections—there are a huge number of yeast infections in this county.""
Does it seem disgusting that a co-worker would want to know this about you? That's what I thought. That is until my Dwight came over—after a phone call to my doctor—and asked about my health insurance plan and disease history. Did I have diabetes? Or lupus? Or bladder control? Were my vaccines up to date?
He thinks my persistent cold may mean that I have a lung disease or cancer.
My Dwight also likes to advise me on why my stock portfolio is a horrible choice if I want to retire before 65, research the origins of my Polish-Irish family and time my bathroom breaks.
He throws out my lunch while I'm away from my desk because ""those chips have a chemical that will affect your intestinal health, Laura,"" and constantly examines the city of Madison sewage maps to make sure the city isn't ""up to anything funny.""
It's enough to make me hate him.
But I don't.
Similar to the real Dwight Schrute, I never know what my personalized version of Dwight will say or do next. Yes he is too invasive, too quirky and too annoying, but without him, work would threaten to be bland, mundane and, let's face it, who would be the victim of the office pranks?
The fact is, we need Dwight. At Dunder Mifflin, he is the foundation that holds the crew together. He brought Jim and Pam together, gives Angela someone to live for and provides Michael the loyalty he so craves.
So Dwight Schrute, I applaud you. Just don't hold it against me if I put your personal items in the vending machine.
Have a Dwight Schrute sitting next to you? Are you Dwight Schrute? E-mail Laura your stories at lbkalinowski@wisc.edu.
