Some People's Children...

All this week at work, we have been blessed (cough, cough) with the presence of our major investors. This is a good thing (investors=money for the company, etc...) and a bad thing (everyone is in a craptacular mood from trying so hard to impress them). I have to say, I was not impressed by them. You would think wealthy, successful business people would have some class. You would be wrong. Today, whilst sitting at my desk, minding my own business, I was blessed to overhear a lengthy, loud and rather detailed discussion of favorite STRIP CLUBS in Canada. That's right. A group of men decided that the WORK PLACE was a great place to discuss their strip club prediliction. Sigh.
My cube mate and I were torn. Do we say something ("Ummm, Mr. Investor men, I know that you basically ensure I have a job and all that, but you are so disgusting. Could you move that conversation elsewhere? Like to Siberia?") or not? In the end we opted for passive aggression: I turned up my radio. It was playing piano arrangements of hymns. Take THAT investor men!
Not too much later, they moved on. I like to think my subtle hint did the trick...