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| Office Rage (How I Snapped at Work)
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"Now you damn well know that we don't lend pens and stick-it notes to other departments" Rita says, relishing her moment to emasculate another humiliated, bottom-rung company serf.
Rita's bouncy fat-girl jowls are the kind you'll find on women who order "health conscious" grilled-chicken salads while under public scrutiny; however, in the secrecy of their own badly-decorated studio apartments, these creatures gorge themselves queen-bee style on Lindt chocolates and Value Meals. Perhaps her hostility is the coping mechanism of an undersexed, fast-food loving Beluga whale, who knows her biological clock is ticking down....fast.
"Charlie put in the request four days ago, but the guys in supply never filled it out for us. If we could just make it through today, we'd all be very appreciative, Rita. You know how it is with those people."
My tact and diplomacy are masterful.......genius inherent in utter simplicity.
Rita doesn't budge.
"My department is not going to be a Staples, or whatever, to everybody that wants freakin' pens and pads. Tell your guys to get their own supplies"
Right before I snap, my mind has one of those inexplicable random associations, where Rita's plump face reminds me of a phosphorescent sea-creature called the Dumbo Octopus. I'd seen the little guy just once, during some late-night perusal of Discovery or TLC, swimming around in the ocean depths, glowing like an earthbound wraith. Magnified ten times, the Dumbo Octopus transforms into Rita's hideous, vomit-inducing mugshot.
Like an attentive cameraman capturing the fine details of a bukkake film, my mind zooms in to the tiny, insectile, black hairs sprouting underneath her jawline.
".............maybe an estrogen deficiency?"
".............Is she taking hormone replacements?"
"..............does her vagina smell like fried onions and sun-rotted fishsticks?"
Rita reaches for the in-house phone, and simultaneously, I snatch it from her hand, slamming it down on the hard, solid desk surface.
" YOU NEED TO SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU STUPID, ARROGANT LITTLE BITCH"
Before her screaming starts, I'm out of the office, and heading in a beeline towards the employee cafeteria. From a distance she sounds like an ICU patient, shrieking from the raw agony of waking up with third-degree burns that have been doused in cold, stinking antibiotic ointment..
Somehow, though the sheer magnificent force of God's forgiveness and mercy I stay gainfully employed (with the assistance of an unbelievably smooth-talking supervisor). Nine out of ten times, incidents like this get you shitcanned, but luckily, I was never placed in front of the human resources firing squad.
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Posted by lazarus on 2007-12-11 14:12:31 | Rating: | Views: 174
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| Blog Comments
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Your posts rock!
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Posted by shannatucker
on 2007-12-11 14:15:38
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This is by far one of the best blogs I've ever read! I'm going to remember to read your stuff!
Great job!
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Posted by Whitters
on 2007-12-11 14:18:09
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Great post! I am reminded of the movie "Anger Management." "and how do you think you handled the situation Lou?" "Not good.."
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Posted by hater22
on 2007-12-13 23:02:47
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lololololololololol!!!!!!
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Posted by Zamicida
on 2007-12-18 17:25:11
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