EMOtive

I work with one man that just can’t stand for me to leave a room without engaging him in some kind of dialog.

If I just walk away he will yell my name over and over like a little kid that is not getting enough attention. Then, after he has said something really stupid, he wonders aloud why he engages me in dialog in the first place.

I wonder the same thing.

This man has the attention span and memory of a mayfly. You can tell him something three times and he will still get it wrong. “This is third floor. I want you to work on the third floor, right here. See this paper with your name on it hanging on the wall? I want you to work right here.”

Fifteen minutes later he was found on the fifth floor, looking lost, claiming he is looking for the room he was in before he went to the pisser.

And this same man tells me that he worked back East as a supervisor for years. I would not let this man supervise a day care for wayward cats.

But I will have the last laugh. When he is giving his best ‘deer in the headlights’ look upon learning that he is being dismissed I intend to be there, still gainfully employed, while he thinks that someone actually cares about whatever sob story he has this week or that his union will help him.

If you can’t beat ‘em, outlive ‘em.