I don’t write about work very much because this blog has become slightly more public than I originally intended and I don’t want to get Dooced. But sometimes in life you just have to say … what the fuck!?!? This be one of them there times.
I work with a lot of people I knew from other companies at various points in my life. As a result, some of those people love me, some of them don’t like me at all and some are completely confused by what they knew then and what they see now. Which makes it kind of fun.
There are not a lot of men who do what I do. I don’t really know why. I haven’t worked directly with a man since … I can’t even remember, actually. The man I work with now is in a class all by himself. He’s a very strange guy with a Napoleon complex. He is about 5’3″, likes to talk to himself out loud and hates women. Considering that there are only women in the chain of command, including the vice-president, and that he is surrounded by women every day, he is a miserable guy. He is very arrogant and condescending and wrong more often than not, which is an interesting combination. We call him The Little Bitch, or TLB.
Last week the system was down when I got to work. That’s always good news because it means I have time to get my act together. I can get my coffee, some water, clean off my desk, organize my email, play Angry Birds on my phone, wake up. It also means TLB has nothing to do and no one to talk to except his podmates. Yes, I am one of his lucky, lucky podmates.
You may or may not know this, but I am not a morning person. By the time I get to work, I am sort of awake, but I really can’t handle conversation deeper than, “Morning, Cap” and “Morning, Betty.” When TLB started talking to me, I sighed inwardly, and turned around, prepared to grin and bear it. TLB said he had something for me and handed me a printout about a new diet, something involving mangos. As I was looking at it, he was telling me that he found it and thought it might be helpful to me.
Me: Did you just call me fat?
TLB: Noooooo. I just thought you could use it.
I just stared at him.
TLB: We could all lose a little weight. Even I have a belly.
Oh, no you did not just say that. He never knows when to quit.
I kept staring, because it truly unnerves him.
TLB: It also helps with high cholesterol.
Me: So you just called me fat and unhealthy.
TLB: No. I just thought it would be helpful, that’s all.
Me: Do you need a shovel? Because you just keep stepping in it.
TLB: Fine. Guess I learned not to try to talk to you.
Me: You should have learned that a long time ago.
Not the nicest thing to say, but oh my GOD. Turns out, he gave that printout to about half the women in the unit, but not any of the thinner women. It crossed my mind to complain about it officially, but that’s not how I roll. Besides, he is so stupid that I honestly don’t think he realized how offensive it was. It would have been one thing to give it to everyone. Still rude, but less offensive. It would have been better to leave a stack of them on a file cabinet where we could all see it. Or just not to do it at all.
So the entire department has been mocking him instead of turning him in. Betty will ask me something and I will say, “I’m sorry. My high cholesterol is clogging my arteries and I can’t get enough blood to my brain to understand this problem.” Or “I’m going outside to smoke. My undiagnosed heart disease isn’t working fast enough.”
My prayer for the day: God save me from those who would save me from myself!