I'm not one of your many toys. It comes to me that a co-worker of mine (let's call her, Judy) that I sporadically call friend is holding the entire department hostage. I am assuming that this occupation occurred somewhere early on within the past fifteen years, and I am doubtful of a clean getaway. As the movies will tell you, there are no clean getaways.
I am loath to admit I am one of her enablers. To explain: each morning, afternoon and evening the staff are allowed a fifteen minute break. Judy is the unofficial alarm clock for each break hour.
"Jolene! It's your turn!"
"Fontana! It's your turn!"
"Jesse! It's your turn!"
You get the idea. Why is she such a fascist, you ask. Well, she has a Virginia Slim beast that must be fed! Plus she hates her job and refuses to quit. Rather than save herself and more importantly, her fellow co-workers, the pain of her pain, she opts to spread her malaise around. Whining, barking out orders, pontificating, sulking; any brand of ugly she can dole out... she will. With a vengeance!
Here are her hot buttons:
- nudity
- Barack Obama
- Michelle Obama
- abortion
- anti-Christianity
- racism
- censorship
Ultimately, this means her "friendship" with me makes no sense as each of this issues evoke starkly opposite feelings and facts from myself than they do from her. Oy.
No comments:
Post a Comment