There are no bad owners, only bad dogs


A heartfelt plea

Thanks, y'all, for [fer] all of the suggestions about how to handle the bitch-who-made-my-life-hell if'n I have to meet up with her agin soon. See? I'm already practicing!

There's this crazy woman who used to work at EduMart who got fired (by other crazy people, incidentally). She was an oddball who stood out, head and shoulders above the sea of oddballs, goofbags, and nutjobs with whom I work. I can't think of enough superlatives to describe how fucking nuts whe was, because enough superlatives haven't been invented yet to do that job. She has a Ph.D., which still astounds me, because she was not only crazy, but also dumber than a box of rocks. She had gotten her degree while in the Army, and apparently carried many of her Army habits into the civilian world. Like wearing the same clothes every day. For a week. On Monday, she'd show up in an outfit that usually included knee socks, a home-crocheted vest (which I believe was probably made of cat hair and lint), and some kind of big prairie sort of skirt, finished off with a pair of men's hush puppies. Then on Tuesday, then on Wednesday... By Friday, things were getting a bit ripe. No one knew what to do with her, so she was generally put in charge of planning parties and making signs out of paper plates. She was always taking people who were interviewing for jobs to lunch at this place called the Magic Time Machine, where the waiters all wear costumes and the salad bar is in a big boat. Other Ph.D.s. To impress them. At a children's theme restaurant.

The reason she's important here is that her favorite outfit of mine was something she'd wear for important events where the smart people were, the ones who, when they said they had a Ph.D., you didn't react by laughing, saying, "No, really," then being embarrassed that you laughed. She had this bright coral suede fringed cowgirl outfit that she'd put on to impress people, because nothing impresses people like a 55 year old woman wearing a coral suede fringed cowgirl outfit. So I need to find her so I can borrow her cowgirl outfit. Then I just need a holster and some six-shooters and I'll be prepared to drink beer and kick some bitchy ass.

Apparently someone once complained to HR about her "hygeine habits" and she got a talking-to, which made her very sensitive about the topic. What the lecture didn't do was inspire her to bathe, however. So one day, a person sitting in a cubicle near hers was eating a tuna sammich. Another person nearby said, rather loudly, "Did someone just open a can of tuna? It stanks in here!" The speaker was a black woman of the variety who yells things at the movie screen in the theater, so you know she wasn't subtle. Then the woman I've been discussing jumps up and yells, "I know you all think I stink! But it's not me!" And everyone around them laughed so hard they broke capillaries. So maybe borrowing clothes from this woman isn't the best plan...

Anyhoo. I refused to solve a problem in five steps again today. How long can this madness go on? Sometimes I can solve a problem in only one step -- like hanging up the phone when I don't want to talk to someone. That's real thinking outside the box and shifting of paradigms. Please kill me now.

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