Blunt to a fault

[sawyl]

After much speculation as to whether one of the former dinosaur wranglers had got engaged, one of storage guys decided to take definitive action and placed a phone call to the relevant party. The details of the conversation — conducted in such stentorian tones that it was surprising that a telephone was required, given that the other party was only in Portsmouth — or a least the Exeter part, are as follows:

Are you getting married?
Is it a man or a woman?
Fiona? Not the one from Shrek?
Is she related to you?
When's the day?
December? When are you going to be a father? January?

All conducted at a volume loud enough to be overheard by everyone on the floor. It was an impressive demonstration of art of applied tactlessness.