Learning to behave


I found out at the company Christmas party last night that one of the new employees is terrified of me. He saw me coming to say hi to his boss, and he grabbed his date and scurried away like a scared jackrabbit.

The problem is that one of his co-workers is an incredible ass who always makes snide remarks in this irritating, nasal voice. Like, if if I’m buried under a pile of work and don’t get to something that he needs right away, he’ll come over and sneer that I’m a slacker. And after a close friend of mine got fired and he said something along the lines of “What do you care? You should just count yourself lucky you still have a job,” my patience with him has been stretched beyond its limits.

So the poor new guy keeps witnessing incidents like the time I went to their department, and the irritating guy said, “What’s your problem now?” and I said, “My problem is that you need to shut the fuck up.” Also, there was that thing yesterday when I was trying to talk to his boss, and one of the other guys was trying to get me to take a file with me by repeatedly tapping me on the shoulder with it for about a minute and a half. I finally took it, and then threw it across the office, in the general vicinity of the startled new guy, and then said, “Stop it.”

It’s no wonder the new guy obviously thinks I’m some kind of loose cannon. And maybe I should dial back my general level of intensity a bit. This sort of thing tends to come up on your year-end review, after all. But you know what? It’s kind of fun having someone be absolutely terrified of you.

Anyway, on the subject of learning to behave, here’s some feedback to a recent post from Janet:

You beat up a kid with crutches? That’s way worse than anything I have ever done. You are a heartless devil.That reminds me of when I was a little older — 13 or so — and there were these two girls who lived on my street that I hated. One day I decided to play a trick on them so I went and gathered some small rocks and wiped them along the tar siding that builders put around the basements of houses that are being built. I tucked the rocks up into my sleeve and my girlfriend and I went to call a truce with them. As we went to shake hands we grabbed the hands of our enemies and rubbed the tar rocks all over their arms- even got it in their hair. We took off, but a few minutes later we could hear larger footsteps chasing us. It turned out to be the father of one of the girls.

Somehow we got away, but the next day the father hung himself in the basement of the house. For years I thought I led him to kill himself. I tried to behave myself after that.

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