There is this asshole Indian dude who I work for named Giridar Srinevasan (the names have not been changed because I don't want to protect this son of a bitch).
One day a few months ago he was looking through the shit on my desk (while I wasn't there mind you) and saw one of the fantasy short story magazines I've been getting. He looked through it, noticing only the advertisements which, regrettably, market towards the female readers with Fabio looking dudes on the cover. He insisted on calling it gay-porn. Everytime he's here at my desk with another person and time to kill, he brings up my obsession with gay porn. "Have you heard about Greg's taste in magazines?" I always bring out the latest issue of Realms of Fantasy and show them, trying as hard as I can not to feel embarassed. He goes through the magazine, pointing out every shitty advertisement for low-end romance/fantasy books, as if that's what I was reading. All the while it's peppered with derisive comments, "I'm worried about you..." Giridar constantly tries to make me feel like shit for reading fantasy, but I'm always like, "I am not ashamed, dude."
This morning, he did it again with one of the younger guys in the office. I said, "Don't you read stories?" His response, "I read newspapers." In a grim voice. Like that's the only thing that matters. Guess what you fucking prick? There's more to life than numbers and spreadsheets and whether your mail-order Hindian wife is going to get into the US on a shitty ass green card.
He's a dick in normal business too, nobody seems to like him because he gets agitated and upset easily. The guy acts like the annoying younger brother to those above him and a playground bully to those below. He's even tried to drag me in the dirt before on an invoice that he fucked up, blaming me to his bosses because I reproduced the exact numbers that he gave me an hour before. Douche.
This is for you, Giridar. If reading fantasy makes me wrong, I don't want to be like you.