Working with People.... part fuckin' 2

I am your brother

you're best damn friend forever

Renaldo Lapuz

So I go to this dumb fucking shit-ass meeting. I know it's a classy place because it is 2 miles downwind from the shit-factory where my wife's mom shovels turds (I gained a lot more respoect and love for her when I realized she thought it was as funny sounding as I still do, dookie shoveler! Say that out loud and try not to smile, it's impossible!) 5 days a week for really good pay, good times.

Anyway, you know when you watch the news and they are in like Russia and there is nothing wrong with the backdrop but you can kind of see that something ominous is going to go on? It was like that, a squat, unassuming building just off of Front street, not the kind of place I had thought of when I was going there.

Anyway, I walk in, and like a lot of the finer hotels I have stayed in noticed the stale smell, kind of damp, and head to where I am going to spend the next 7 hours. The conference room had a bunch of tables much too close together for my comfort, and I was almost assured to have to sit next to some dude who was going to have cabbage farts, that's just the way karma bends the stevester over the barrel, folks.

Anyhoo, this lady who seemed much to jolly to not be high bounced up to me and gave me her name, which I instantly forgot, and shook my hand. Apparently from this one handshake she figured out that I am a type F personality on the SELF scale, which stands for Factual, meaning in essence I am a douche but it's only because I feel like I am smarter than everyone else, which in that room was true. Hell Smeagol could have traded wits with a bunch of the people in that room, you could smell the stupidity baking off of some of these people's foreheads as they asked questions like: "When I am at work and I try to communicate, some people seem angry and it makes my ass leak with sadness..." followed by group crying and another clip of Fried Green Tomatoes or Steel Magnolias and more lip flapping about how our feelings are important. I cannot for the life of me figure out why this class is 400 dollars a person, there's no fucking snacks, no drinks and she is up here telling us if we work real hard we will get a break. Fuck dat Beeyotch I'll break when I friggin aye want to!

So I am not going to bore you with the rest of the day, suffice it to say it sucked goat cock. I go into work the next morning and Greyskull already wants to talk to me, which was also funnily enough the last day I showed up for work 5 minutes early.

I mosey on in, my supreme new diploma in hand, and plop into the chair. She spends at LEAST 20 seconds just sitting there smiling at me, maybe it was because she was smothering a baby river otter in her buttflaps and it's writhing and death throes was exciting her.

"So, what did you learn? I want to know everything about that class Stevester!" She gurgled, not unlike Jabba the Hut except I would eventually try to bone Jabba if we were the only 2 left on Earth...not so with Greyskull.

I have 2 options at this point: option A) I tell her that I did not learn anything and that the class was a waste of time and money much as her hiring process was. The pro would be it would fluster her just long enough for me to get out of the door before her wordical diahrrea smothered me. The con would be I would be fired without the joy of ever seeing the Bealster tunnel-visioned onto Derka's ass, concentration furrowing his brow as his pace quickened, his black bicycle shorts glistening with...

Anyway, I also had Option B) which was to tell her what I thought she wanted to hear, the pro would be I would still be gainfully employed, the con would be I would lose all the respect I had earned and also lose my soul to the same fate kitten's souls go to... so option b was out, there was no way, up to including it being a condition of my continued employment, that I was going to be nice to that taint.

I chose option C), and you will see a pattern here, in which I said everything I could think of to annoy her and get another manager's meeting, which also took me off the phones. Observe, bitches:

"Well Greyskull, lord of the Underworld and Devourer of Kitten's Souls, I learned a lot at the class. I learned to love my fellow man, I learned sanskrit, I learned to divide by 0, I got my ham radio license, I..." I stopped as I could see her face turning red, which either meant a turd was trying to exit sideways or I had gotten to her finally... so I pulled out my ace card: My diploma. Observe it's awesomeness, which is marred a little bit by the Cristo Rey girl, one of the interns who was more awesome than a lot of the adult employees in the building.

I gave this to her, expecting her to break down crying and apologize, and inform her that that 7 hour class had erased 26 years of anger, repression and crack addiction. Her response?

WHAT WAS GREYSKULL'S RESPONSE?

WHY AM I TYPING IN ALL CAPS?

WHAT THE HELL DID I EAT TO MAKE MY ASS BURN SO VIVIDLY?

TUNE IN TOMORROW TO FIND OUT WITH THE CONCLUSION TO THIS HA-RROW-ING TALE!