Thursday, February 16, 2012

was I born to accomodate, I'm so good at playing dead

Universally, at every place I've worked, mostly in the world of customer service, the people who have always been the worst to deal with have almost always been women old enough to be my mother. And no, not all of you, there's a lot of you who are pretty awesome.

So I'm not sure why it is, if there's an assumption of privilege, of age in the sense that I'm young enough to be their kid and therefore can't be accepted as an adult of any kind, or just the kind of nastiness with which women with power treat others because they've read a lot of motivational books about getting what they want and getting ahead. The bosses who've given me the most trouble have been the women with an axe to grind, the suburban moms at the zoo were notorious for their nastiness, and the ones who want to get their masters' degrees so they can push paper and make life hard for everyone else

I've said it before, and I'll say it again, patriarchal society be damned, women have given me way more problems in life than men and have treated me far worse.

So today this lady comes up who doesn't get the special treatment she feels she deserves and seems to spout off her suburban credentials of children and pets nevermind that my compadre is married with children and people who are married with children trust me with their domains, children and pets. Obviously, we miscreants, not from the white-picket fence suburbs and not quite so tailored, are just being punkassed kids who are just being punkassed kids.

Having no luck with my homie, she turns to me and demands again claiming to be a nice person. Life experience has taught me that self-proclaimed nice people are usually anything but, and so I pretty much tell her that all I'm getting from her is not a lot of niceness and a lot of bullying. To which, on top of being too irresponsible for progeny, I've also got "issues" that she'd "love to help me deal with" but evidently I'm beyond help and so on and so forth.


A few years ago, something like this might have made me cry, but years of taking verbal abuse from people with no recourse but to smile and say yes I understand while raging inside. At this point, my skin has thickened that I just kind of get mad, but it's impossible to feel hurt because it's obvious she's got way more issues than yours truly. Ironic that the worst people do deal with are the suburban women who want to become social workers and teachers yet have no empathy or understanding when they demand special privileges that could involve us landing in hot water. It doesn't surprise me any more, but it amazes me nonetheless.


  1. Don't hurt yourself homie, I'll go to Big Choice Video instead.

  2. my masters of social work classes were brimming with those ladies of a certain age who had never been shown the respect for their crone insights that they deserved, not so much for the listening that crowd and lord help the poor folks who where going to have to feed their egos just to get some help.

  3. Randal,
    Cute cat, what's it's name? I HAVE CHILDREN AND PETS AND A WHITE PICKET FENCE.

    I know some amazing social workers, and then there are those other ones that make me fear for their poor clients. I guess it's like that in any profession though, it's just that I can't imagine them being helpful to the vulnerable.