What do you do with a completely annoying friend? Well, partly annoying—partly high maintenance.
The high maintenance refers to her attitude and constant need of reassurance. I work with the lady—and I love her—but sometimes it’s too much for my impatient mind to take.
An example from today’s surge of bitchiness:
Lenny emailed the boss and cc’d several others (including Ms. Attitude). Once boss replied to all, Ms. Attitude complained to me that “I have to get back in boss’ favor. Lenny is trying to push me out and make me look bad.”
Why, I asked?
“You don’t understand! Lenny only emailed the boss to piss me off!”
Um, okay. So I found myself assuring her that even if the boss likes Lenny, that doesn’t mean the boss can’t like her too. Are we in Jr. High School again?
My favorite email:
“Lenny and Rebecca are talking about me behind my back.”
Uh…Ms. Attitude, what do you think you’re doing right now?
Six hours into our 8 hour work day and I have received 32 emails from Ms. Attitude complaining of one injustice or another.
I feel obligated to mention that I’m 30 years old and Ms. Attitude is 48.
Showing posts with label complaints. Show all posts
Showing posts with label complaints. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Monday, April 6, 2009
The Road to Crazy Town is Free and Clear
Driving down Telegraph toward work this morning, I came across yet another disgruntled middle aged wench. I was driving along at the correct speed and began getting closer to a slow moving beast just ahead of me. I took off the cruise control and glided up behind the dinosaur moving 5 miles under the posted speed limit. I, surprisingly conscientious for so early a morn, did not freak out with my typical road rage, but instead calmly thought “Well, I’ll be able to pass soon enough and I’m not running late anyway.” I did not tailgate by any means but (I admit, atypically) stayed a respectable distance back from the said dinosaur.
Then came the middle finger salute. This person actually stuck their arm outside a car window on a 30° day to flip me off. That is when I realized their entire back window and most of both side windows were covered in a thick layer of snow. How did (they) even see me!?! Just as I was wondering if someone in front of them was on the receiving end of their salute, their brake lights illuminated. The psycho hit their brakes! After a well deserved “What the fuck?!” I very much realized they were pi$$ed at ME! Oh…. NOW the tailgating begins…. WHY? Because the fucker hit their brakes! Now that I was actually tailgating (by their own actions) I got another “salute” from outside their driver window. (With so much snow on their back window, (they) couldn’t even “salute” me from inside their car…I’d have never seen it!
Now, I’m not confused at their actions, but pi$$ed. I slowed down to put more distance between our cars… and (they) hit the brakes again. So, I laid on my horn. What the hell are they doing!? After the brake lights went back off, (they) continued to travel even slower—now 45 mph in a 55 mph zone. Finally, I had a chance to pass…. and give my own salute! What did I see from the side of my car? An embittered middle-aged woman with hair and glasses reminiscent of 1984, along with the third appearance of her middle digit.
To Note: If you are a diving psychotic, please continue to dress appropriately so the rest of us can see you coming from a respectable distance. Also, please be considerate enough to clear snow from your car so you can salute people appropriately without risking frostbite on your precious middle digit.
Then came the middle finger salute. This person actually stuck their arm outside a car window on a 30° day to flip me off. That is when I realized their entire back window and most of both side windows were covered in a thick layer of snow. How did (they) even see me!?! Just as I was wondering if someone in front of them was on the receiving end of their salute, their brake lights illuminated. The psycho hit their brakes! After a well deserved “What the fuck?!” I very much realized they were pi$$ed at ME! Oh…. NOW the tailgating begins…. WHY? Because the fucker hit their brakes! Now that I was actually tailgating (by their own actions) I got another “salute” from outside their driver window. (With so much snow on their back window, (they) couldn’t even “salute” me from inside their car…I’d have never seen it!
Now, I’m not confused at their actions, but pi$$ed. I slowed down to put more distance between our cars… and (they) hit the brakes again. So, I laid on my horn. What the hell are they doing!? After the brake lights went back off, (they) continued to travel even slower—now 45 mph in a 55 mph zone. Finally, I had a chance to pass…. and give my own salute! What did I see from the side of my car? An embittered middle-aged woman with hair and glasses reminiscent of 1984, along with the third appearance of her middle digit.
To Note: If you are a diving psychotic, please continue to dress appropriately so the rest of us can see you coming from a respectable distance. Also, please be considerate enough to clear snow from your car so you can salute people appropriately without risking frostbite on your precious middle digit.
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