I just paid $7.20 for a grilled chicken wrap with spinach and feta cheese, plus a small bottle of water. I didn’t realize the damn wrap cost $5.95, it wasn’t posted anywhere. If the wrap hadn’t been as tasty as it was I’d feel a lot more ripped off than I do. I even told the guy at the counter that I wouldn’t be doing that again, that $5.95 for that wrap was outrageous.
I finished up my last week at the temp job that has paid the bills for the last few months. I start a regular full-time job a week from tomorrow. I’ll miss some of the people I’ve been working with, but I doubt I’ll ever feel the need to contact any of them again. The job served its purpose, it kept me in rent and bill money. But I doubt I’d have been able to stay there indefinitely. The job was a crashing bore, all I basically did was keep an eye on one guy’s calendar and sort of keep an eye on another guy’s calendar. There was the occasional bit of typing, transcribing meeting notes, stuff like that.
Sounds like a sweet gig, actually, but there’s a catch. Working at this company is the meanest nastiest creature I’ve ever worked with. A poisonous ill-mannered bitch. Hostility oozes from every pore. Simple questions are answered with blatant annoyance and anger. Now I’ve worked with some mean nasty people in the past, but they could usually be depended on to at least be civil enough for work to get accomplished. Even the most monstrous boss I’ve ever encountered, a woman I’d gladly see torn apart by wolves, could assign tasks without making me want to see her dead. But not this bitch.
I spent the first six weeks I was there in a panic that I’d done something wrong, that I’d alienated her in some way, but a quick trip through the mental rolodex turned up nothing: I’d always been nice and polite and done good enough work. And it isn’t like she was a VP or anything, she’s an Executive Assistant just like I was. So I didn’t let it get to me too much, beyond the occasional ventfest with my partner Bob.
And then one day she just plain went several steps too far. I got a phone call from her that crossed the line in sheer blatant fucking rudeness. I had done nothing out of line. I had, at her boss’ request, left a voicemail for her on her cellphone. I thought nothing of it, until the bitch in question (BIQ hereafter) called me and let me know in the strongest language and rudest tone of voice that I shouldn’t ever do that again. It was the last straw. I did something I’m not particularly happy about, but it was the only way I could think of to handle the situation. I just cut her off completely. I didn’t acknowledge her existence, I didn’t speak to her unless spoken to, if she came to my desk I would face away from her and address all responses to the computer monitor. How fucking third grade can you get? But it seemed to work. And I made a gesture. When the bitch came back from vacation I went over to her desk and was all bright and chatty and asked about her trip, and that was good for a few days. And soon thereafter the BIQ went back to her usual rotten terrible self.
I had also done some investigating, just asking folks I trusted about the BIQ, and found that I was far from alone. A co-worker referred to the BIQ as being “just an evil person.” Another co-worker would not discuss the BIQ, only shake his head and make strangling motions with his hands. My boss, when I finally had to ask him what the story was, called the BIQ an “albatross.” Apparently the BIQ was notorious for being hellish, and was only there under the protection of her rather less monstrous but still pretty difficult boss.
I can only be relieved that the BIQ and I will not have anything further to do with each other. I’ll admit that I have occasionally considered some post-partum revenge, like sending her dog shit in the mail or adding her e-mail address to assorted S&M porn sites, but I doubt I will do it.
I finished up my last week at the temp job that has paid the bills for the last few months. I start a regular full-time job a week from tomorrow. I’ll miss some of the people I’ve been working with, but I doubt I’ll ever feel the need to contact any of them again. The job served its purpose, it kept me in rent and bill money. But I doubt I’d have been able to stay there indefinitely. The job was a crashing bore, all I basically did was keep an eye on one guy’s calendar and sort of keep an eye on another guy’s calendar. There was the occasional bit of typing, transcribing meeting notes, stuff like that.
Sounds like a sweet gig, actually, but there’s a catch. Working at this company is the meanest nastiest creature I’ve ever worked with. A poisonous ill-mannered bitch. Hostility oozes from every pore. Simple questions are answered with blatant annoyance and anger. Now I’ve worked with some mean nasty people in the past, but they could usually be depended on to at least be civil enough for work to get accomplished. Even the most monstrous boss I’ve ever encountered, a woman I’d gladly see torn apart by wolves, could assign tasks without making me want to see her dead. But not this bitch.
I spent the first six weeks I was there in a panic that I’d done something wrong, that I’d alienated her in some way, but a quick trip through the mental rolodex turned up nothing: I’d always been nice and polite and done good enough work. And it isn’t like she was a VP or anything, she’s an Executive Assistant just like I was. So I didn’t let it get to me too much, beyond the occasional ventfest with my partner Bob.
And then one day she just plain went several steps too far. I got a phone call from her that crossed the line in sheer blatant fucking rudeness. I had done nothing out of line. I had, at her boss’ request, left a voicemail for her on her cellphone. I thought nothing of it, until the bitch in question (BIQ hereafter) called me and let me know in the strongest language and rudest tone of voice that I shouldn’t ever do that again. It was the last straw. I did something I’m not particularly happy about, but it was the only way I could think of to handle the situation. I just cut her off completely. I didn’t acknowledge her existence, I didn’t speak to her unless spoken to, if she came to my desk I would face away from her and address all responses to the computer monitor. How fucking third grade can you get? But it seemed to work. And I made a gesture. When the bitch came back from vacation I went over to her desk and was all bright and chatty and asked about her trip, and that was good for a few days. And soon thereafter the BIQ went back to her usual rotten terrible self.
I had also done some investigating, just asking folks I trusted about the BIQ, and found that I was far from alone. A co-worker referred to the BIQ as being “just an evil person.” Another co-worker would not discuss the BIQ, only shake his head and make strangling motions with his hands. My boss, when I finally had to ask him what the story was, called the BIQ an “albatross.” Apparently the BIQ was notorious for being hellish, and was only there under the protection of her rather less monstrous but still pretty difficult boss.
I can only be relieved that the BIQ and I will not have anything further to do with each other. I’ll admit that I have occasionally considered some post-partum revenge, like sending her dog shit in the mail or adding her e-mail address to assorted S&M porn sites, but I doubt I will do it.
