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Mon, Sep. 17th, 2007 | 04:41 pm slavezombie
 slavezombie | ||
The women I work with really seem to have hang-ups. This morning I am explaining to Julz that I'm trying to stay off meat. Personally, I think it might be an effective way to lose a couple pounds, but somebody else was in the room hearing me explain my attempt to eat veggie style and she retorted with "Gosh, did you get your nails done too?" I'll admit, I didn't have a good rebuttal, and Julz simply worstened the situation by saying "Ooh. Them's fightin` words."
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.
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