Another Vintage Post — from 7 May 2008
down with OPP? yeah, no I guess not..
Here’s my lovely daily rant.
It is sometimes chilly in our office. I have a cute, pink hoodie with AC/DC logo on it. Found it quite some time ago, have never seen another. I keep it draped over the back of my chair, for the days when the place is chilly.
I came in, and my supervisor asked if my coworker (let’s call her Faith) put my sweater back. I had no idea what she meant, but then noticed my jacket was missing. Oh well, I thought, I can get it tonight. So Faith comes in at 5:30 and I ask her, “Where’s my jacket?”
“Oh!” Slapping her head and rolling her eyes, “I forgot it at home. I’ll wash it tonight and bring it to you tomorrow.”
“Okay, yeah, do that.”
5:30 rolls around, Faith comes strolling in.
“Faith, where’s my jacket?”
Slaps the head, “Oh! I forgot it again! I’ll bring it to you tomorrow.”
Exasperated I reply,”Well, I needed it today, because I am leaving tomorrow and wanted to take it with me, because it’s always cold on a plane.”
“OOOOh I’m sorry. You can come by tonight and get it after work?”
I don’t want to go by after work. I want my fucking jacket to be where I left it. On the back of my chair. Not at your house.
“No, forget it. Just bring it to me next week. Don’t forget.”
Wednesday thru this past Monday
In Arkansas, not thinking about AC/DC jacket.
5:freakin’30 here comes Faith.
“Faith, where’s my jacket?”
Slaps the forehead, “Oh! I didn’t realize you’d be here today. I’ll bring it tomorrow, promise.”
*let me just stop here and say, why the fuck did she not bring my jacket in last week at all? not because she was afraid to leave it there without me present, I’m sure, as I have left the damn thing on my chair since September..*
2:00 ish…I look up and see Faith in the back of the room, I motion at her and tell her “DON’T FORGET TO BRING MY SHIT TODAY.”
“Here you are, here’s your jacket, okay?” Drapes the jacket back over my chair.
I go on break. Put on my jacket (which is shrunk and my boobs will not allow me to zip up, I might add). I am reading a book when something catches my eye. Blue. Ink. Stains.
On the sleeve. Of my weird, unique, pink AC/DC hoodie sweater jacket thing, that was borrowed without permission.
What. The. Fuckity. Humping. Fuck?
But, here’s my big dilemma.
I, Captain Crass, have not said anything about it yet. For various reasons.
1. She’s been a very foul mood as of late. I’m not scared of her, but I am not really wanting to set her off, as she may flip out and cause a crying crazy weird sad scene.
2. She is financially strapped. She’s a newly single Mom, works part time, and again, she’s stressed out.
3. Well, I guess that’s all.
I don’t necessarily want to be compensated. But the grown up thing to do would be to acknowledge that she ruined my damn clothes. Oh, here’s your sweater. Sorry, I must have mistaken a Sharpie for a Downy Sheet. Your jacket’s ruined.
Is that too much to ask?
To behave in the way a 34 year old should?
Obviously. So rude. So without being confronational and mean, I am unsure how to approach her about this. I want to at least be like, “Hey, Faith, you fucked my shit up.” without it being mean.
Apparently, it’s an issue with her, though, taking things without permission. There is another lady in the office, the sweetest most thoughtful lady, and Faith takes her magazines out of her desk, helps herself to candy in the drawer (when this woman sets candy on her desk for everyone to eat) and uses her coffee cup without washing it properly. I mean, was she never taught not to use things without express permission? Suggestions, anyone?
see pic for damage to right sleeve, although it’s on both…
Here is what I left on her desk:
And here is her response:
Now I have to post the awesome reply from Brooks.
That fuckin’ note takes the cake. How the FUCK is she going to fix the fact that it’s too fucking small? Is she a tailor, too? Seriously, Joy. Bitchslap her. As hard as you can. And then stomp on her foot and spit in her hair.
No…that wouldn’t do. Ummm…you should start not-so-furtively hiding your shit when she comes in the room. Give her a sideways glance and then start moving all of the shit on the left side of your desk to the right side. And then look at her again, look at your shit, and then move it all into your drawer. And maybe loudly ask Kelli if you there are any padlocks in the supply closet.
Repeat this everyday until you feel better.