work stories

[sakura]

There's this freak of a lady that works the desk where I'm employed - she has this ugly-ass Hummer (supposedly she has two, as well as a $450,000 house out of state), has money up the ass as a result of a failed marriage to a rich sap, and of course, has no need for a job; you know, another reason alot of us with bills to worry about can't find employment.

I walk into our back room during lunch and see two of the guys eating a weird-looking pizza. There are several other employees, including the boss, with a slice in their hand. I make the deduction that this is the guys' pizza and they're sharing the yummy wealth in the middle of a hard day.

I ask for a slice. They oblige. It tasted like shit, but I hadn't eaten since around 6 the night before and I was fucking hungry. Naturally. I didn't want to bug them for a second slice so I asked if I could grab a loose pepperoni. Again, no problem. As I'm picking it off with the tips of my fingers, the now rapidly-cooled pizza causes the cheese to come off along with it. So I don't drop it back on there, I just eat what I picked.

That's when this woman walks in and makes this annoyed grunt. She sits at the table with the boss when the few others leave, and proceeds to exchange looks with her. Of course I can tell she's miffed about SOMETHING, although it better not be about me having permission to grab a 'roni. So I don't dick around, I ask what's up. She gripes that "it would have been ok if I had just TAKEN the slice, but the guy had no business giving away HER lunch. SHE paid for it.

So I explain I had no idea I somehow ruined her fantastic spread. I offered to pay her for my piece, I said I'd toss the offending slice into the trash - I even offered to purchase and pick up a new fucking pie... but no. Not good enough.

Forget that I tried to honestly remedy the situation, or that I wasn't to blame for not knowing her name was cryptically spelled in sausage. For some reason she must've felt it necessary to punish me with her looks of disgust and subsequent commentary on how disgusting I was to the boss when I then left the room and was therefore, in her pea brain, far out of earshot.

So that's when I got pissed off. They say the cheapest bastards are the ones with money, and now I have firsthand experience as to why. I mean, totally off the scale why... What's fucking morbid is that the bitch exhibits such an attitude right there over an $11 pizza after a person (who, to $11 is actually give or take, 1/14 of their meager earnings) is told by the one EATING IT: "yeah, you're on brake, it's lunchtime, everyone else had some, just take it."

Funny, as well, how nothing was said about the rest of the staff partaking in such a aristocratic feast. So, at the following week's company holiday party, I let out a quip as we passed her throne: "are you sure you wanna go up to the buffet now? I dont wanna have to taint the food."

Predictably, she bit it, hook and all. "It's a possibility." All the proof I needed. Apparently it wasn't about the food, it was somehow about me and the food. So, I proceeded to jab at her loud enough for the round table to partake in the squabble. She just tries to avert the attention and says, "don't start with me..."

No, bitch, you started. I would've loved to call her a bitch when I made that straight, but regardless, these people are like a disease infecting every corner of the Earth. And my job (and everyone else's party time) aren't going to suffer as a result of it.

My boss seems to wait until I'm in the office checking the schedule (when bitchola's working) to make comments on how "family-like" our establishment is, blah, fucking blah. When I was in high school, shit on, well, the grade-school-level, may have given me stomach aches. But it didn't those times. And that feels real fucking good. The boss is transferring next week- so remarks aren't a problem. Pizza bitch hasn't said a word to me since, which to me, is a good sign. If only there were a time limit on when that crap gets permanently rubbed from the front desk. In the meantime, she better keep her grimy nubs off my leftover Christmas cookies.