Wednesday, May 24, 2006


I read today True Ancestor's post about the price of small transgressions, and it reminded me of a time in my life when I was deeply unhappy because I was working the job from hell.

True Ancestor is someone who believes in paying the price for his actions. My former boss, who I will decline to identify although I'm really really really really tempted to, did not. She would cheat, scream, cut in line, take things that "would not be missed," and all because she "needed it" or she was "running late" or whatever other rationale was handy. I finally quit because I couldn't stand that she would expect me to do those things too. If I took too long on an errand, she would say "Why didn't you go to the front of the line and tell them that what you wanted was too important and you couldn't wait?" I'd say "Well, because your latte is really not any more important than anyone else's, and I doubt they'd believe it was." She'd give me a look like I was the worst kind of socialist lunatic she'd ever heard.

In the end, she could live with her actions because she believed in her own happiness only, and not in the happiness of others. And worse, her happiness depended only on the acquisition of things for herself, and depended not at all on the feelings of those around her. She was an incredible specimen of near complete self-centeredness.

The kicker? She was a devout Hindu. She lived in a ashram. The only art she had in the house were pictures of either Krishna or her swami, whom she revered and spoke of in hushed tones.

Yeah, I couldn't understand why she never exploded from the sheer volume of hypocrisy contained within her body.

I remember once, when I was crying in the office bathroom after a particularly brutal berating from her, I blurted out to a coworker who had followed me in to comfort me "You know, I got a better chance of seeing Krishna when I die, and I don't even know who the fuck he is!"
I considered working the line into my resignation speech, but thought better of it at the last moment. No need to muddy the waters with evocations of blue-skinned deities. And although I had worked there only 6 months, I had outlasted every bet in the office pool on how long it would take me to walk out the door.
So in the end, I found myself a better job, and I walked into her office and said, simply, "I quit." She gave me this smug little smile and said "Good girl."
And you know, I wasn't even tempted to smack that fucking smile off her face. Because the idea that she would try to claim my victory as her own at the moment was so ridiculous, and yet so typical, that all I could do was laugh.
So I laughed at her. And I turned and walked out.
I think the laugh really bothered her. Which was fabulous, I won't lie.
But I think I had earned that one small transgression.


Melissa said...

Wow. How you didn't knock the shit out of her EVER is a miracle. I would have definitely been fired.

david said...

Thanks for the link, V.

And how you put up with that shit, and still refrained from ID'ing that demon, I will never know but will always admire.

Asparagus P said...

I woulda bitch slapped dat ho!

dad said...

I like to say,"It all counts". However, I would like to know, now that this has past, did it help you become stronger? I remember that I was concerned during, whether you were slipping into a dark hole.

GETkristiLOVE said...

I remember stories about that ca-razy-ass-bitch. She's not good enough to be a Ho.

yo sisters cube mate said...

One of my co-workers has a great expression about people like this. "The universe is self-correcting".

So do you know if this bitch ever got hers, or are we still waiting for the correction?

vikkitikkitavi said...

My strategy at the time was to subvert her in small ways for my own amusement, like taking the gold Chanel eyeshadow she wanted me to return to Saks and giving it to my landlady instead (funnier if you knew my landlady), or renting her the subtitle version of the foreign film she wanted instead of the dubbed one, because I knew she was too damn lazy to read subtitles, thus ruining her evening, or breaking the ashram rules by not taking off my shoes when I was alone in her house, or getting her the high-fat version of her healthy take-out food, but telling her it was the low-fat.

I could go on.

But yeah, Dad, I think it did teach me a lot, and not just about snarky coping strategies, but also about standing up for myself, even when I feel intimidated.

dad said...

Yo, baby, it all counts.