I tend to have a good memory for things like this so that, when I have something snide to say, I don't have to feel guilty about it if I just think of what was said to me previously. Later in the day, I notice that somebody nudged the sliding doors to the front entrance of this hell hole job, and I thought how perfect something like this should happen when the person in charge happens to be the same person with remarkable knowledge about feminine hygene. So I approach ever so timidly that there's something wrong with the front doors. She conveniently asks "Can you fix them?" and I retort, "Um, that's why I'm letting you know. It's probably something General Services should be notified about." and I walk away. It was poetic justice.
About fifteen minutes later, the door to the workroom opens up and I hear, in an irate voice "Hey boss?! [Slavzombie]!". There were others in the room too: Jude, Jose, Pat, and Silvia was in the kitchen, so I don't know if she heard the outburst.
I turned to address her as calmly as possible and say, "I'm not your boss."
She continues with her insanely frustrated voice, "I called them." and I simply acknowledge her frustration with a thank you. I didn't behave in that manner when I was chastised about my attempt to eat healthier. It isn't like I misaligned the doors myself. So, I thought I would tag this as kaka treatment.
