A few weeks ago, I went to work at my dads painting business. He had somewhere acquired a young woman to work for him, her and her mother. I don’t mind someone who doesn’t have a clue what they are doing, but someone who won’t even TRY to listen to those who know when they give advice, who get all snooty and act like THEY are the ones who know what they are doing really aggravate me. I suggested nicely that they stop using poles to paint, because they were missing a lot of spots. All I got was attitude. So, that night, I took all the poles home with me. The next day, she was very upset when she couldn’t find them. My dad told them that I might know where they were (he had told them that I didn’t want them to use the poles anymore because they were screwing up, which they just ignored and went ahead and used them again the day before this). She came up and asked me in a totally disrespectful, aggressive tone where the poles were. I said “they were needed elsewhere”, and walked away. ( I should mention that she is stupid, bigoted, vapid, lazy, and has a infuriating hgih-pitched, whiny spoiled-brat little girl voice that makes me want to smack her when I hear her talking). A while later, I see something out of the corner of my eye while up on a ladder; I turn, and see her standing there; she had found a broom in the basement, and unscrewed the handle. She was standing there, holding it like a giant penis, making motions like she was masturbating, clearly saying “fuck you, I don’t have to listen to you!” A while later they went to start cleaning up (at about 4 o’clock, having stayed to work a whole four hours now). I just happened to be painting over the front door; as she walked under me, I just happened to be pulling a big, wet roller full of paint out of my bucket to paint above the door. Oh, woe and misfortune, a huge drizzle of paint went all over her bare head and back and neck (I guess no one told her the reason painters traditionally wear hats; if they had, I doubt she’d have listened to them). Oh dear, such a terrible accident! I have to give her credit, she didn’t say anything at all. Couldn’t have proved it was on purpose (not that I am admitting that it WAS or anything…) in any case. I heard her kind of loudly saying something to her mother about how “hopefully it’ll wash out”. Lucky for her it was latex, not oil, or she’d have to use paint thinner to clean it out! Latex just needs water.

Bonus, the next day she was back at work (of you can call what she did “work”); the client was asking me if next time I was in the attic, if I could take a look for something up there for him (it was not easy to access at ALL). She walked past and said “well, maybe while he’s up there he can look for those missing paint poles”. Not sure, but I guess that was suppose to be a joke, even though it wasn’t funny, and didn’t make any sense, since it was pretty obvious that I knew exactly where they were. Too bad I’m no good at instant comebacks, but when I saw her again a few minutes later standing around watching everyone else work, I said “Hey, you know, you ought to take up a career as a comedian” “Me?” “Yeah, you’re sure as fuck not likely to have one as a painter”, and I walked off. Maybe not comic genius, but it felt good. I don’t like being rude to people, but this girl drove me over the edge. I’m glad to announce she has moved on to “work” for another place now. When she approached my dad and said that she’d “consider staying on if she got a raise”, it was all I could do to choke my derisive laugh back into a kind of snort/grunt. Yeah, don’t let the door hit you on the way out, ma’am!