The Place Where I Work: Like A Mirror...Almost.
I have many fleeting moments of insane narcissism/think it’s the world according to me, and this work tale will hugely reflect that.
A few years ago I worked in Hell- AKA the architecture firm that was indeed hell, but brought B and Jesse into my life therefore strengthening my belief in everything happening for a reason. One of the partners at the firm was disabled; he had a baby arm. I NEVER mocked his disability, but his baby arm did haunt my dreams…nightmares simply because he was a grotesque person, the arm was waxy and continued to grow nails…that he would clip by laying the waxy arm on his desk …-and let’s say his office was surrounded by glass and my desk wasn’t too far from his. I was WAYYY luckier than Jesse who had to sit in the office with him-she was his assistant- and was once hit by the arm when it spasmed and knocked her coffee all over her shirt.
Of course being the classy dame I am, whenever the ‘baby armed partner’ did ANYTHING shitty, which was often, I would go into detail about how each of us (usually B, Jesse and I) were getting fisted by that baby arm-nails unclipped!
Fast forward to the present day. There is a woman who works on the same floor as the cafeteria- in one of the food companies offices- who is the same height as me, same complexion, we dress the same (professionally), same hair color and length- pretty much one would think we were sisters…there’s just one thing…she has a baby arm!
Upon seeing each other the first time we were both enamored: like wow! you look FABULOUS! Then I noticed the baby arm-and I thought: shit!!! this is like a payback for my mocking of the baby arm and how it haunted my dreams!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ME ME ME, not thinking that this chick has nothing to do with me- except for her excellent taste in black cardigans and looks. This further proves I am an asshole and I have a feeling she can sense this too because she has gone from friendly to ‘bitch please!’ Hmmmm. I think she has come into my life for a reason…perhaps to teach me a lesson on how to be LESS of an asshole? Or maybe to teach me that just because a person is disabled it does not mean they cannot be a jackass and therefore deserve to be mocked…
Pondering. Pondering.
A few years ago I worked in Hell- AKA the architecture firm that was indeed hell, but brought B and Jesse into my life therefore strengthening my belief in everything happening for a reason. One of the partners at the firm was disabled; he had a baby arm. I NEVER mocked his disability, but his baby arm did haunt my dreams…nightmares simply because he was a grotesque person, the arm was waxy and continued to grow nails…that he would clip by laying the waxy arm on his desk …-and let’s say his office was surrounded by glass and my desk wasn’t too far from his. I was WAYYY luckier than Jesse who had to sit in the office with him-she was his assistant- and was once hit by the arm when it spasmed and knocked her coffee all over her shirt.
Of course being the classy dame I am, whenever the ‘baby armed partner’ did ANYTHING shitty, which was often, I would go into detail about how each of us (usually B, Jesse and I) were getting fisted by that baby arm-nails unclipped!
Fast forward to the present day. There is a woman who works on the same floor as the cafeteria- in one of the food companies offices- who is the same height as me, same complexion, we dress the same (professionally), same hair color and length- pretty much one would think we were sisters…there’s just one thing…she has a baby arm!
Upon seeing each other the first time we were both enamored: like wow! you look FABULOUS! Then I noticed the baby arm-and I thought: shit!!! this is like a payback for my mocking of the baby arm and how it haunted my dreams!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
ME ME ME, not thinking that this chick has nothing to do with me- except for her excellent taste in black cardigans and looks. This further proves I am an asshole and I have a feeling she can sense this too because she has gone from friendly to ‘bitch please!’ Hmmmm. I think she has come into my life for a reason…perhaps to teach me a lesson on how to be LESS of an asshole? Or maybe to teach me that just because a person is disabled it does not mean they cannot be a jackass and therefore deserve to be mocked…
Pondering. Pondering.
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