It’s a good week to feel good, if only for a brief moment in time! But watching Dr. Fauci smile like he’d just been crowned Ms. America while speaking at a White House press briefing might just be the happiest I have ever seen a man. Fauci’s pure joy was a result of finally being freed from the shackles of half-truths spouted from his former boss, who peaced out dramatically on Tuesday. Fauci was laughing, cracking jokes, his skin was glowing, his hair grew two extra inches, it was beautiful.
We’ve all had that one unbearable co-worker, who had us sacrificing paperclips to the office gods to plead they would just go away. Whether it’s because they got fired, quit, or just transferred to a different department where you didn’t have to deal with them, what co-worker departure made your spirit soar? We wanna know.
But first, let’s take a look back on how far over the edge you all went when you lost your shit.
Revolutionary From Way Back shared a story so vile my soul left my body, as will yours:
I had gotten a roommate to help with the bills and roommate was becoming pissed at his food packages being broken into at night and all the mouse poop in the morning. So I went and got a set of three snap traps. (I know, I know, but I couldn’t listen to them die in a glue trap either). Turns out peanut butter is the way to lure Mickey to a quick death. Every night I would load up the traps with Jiffy and as soon as the lights would go out - SNAP SNAP SNAP. Within the first 15 minutes easily. In the morning I would clean the guys up and we’d begin again. Fun fact- did you know mice can smell death? after a while they stopped going near the traps. I boiled the traps and that seemed to do it, good to go again. I say all this to prove how bad the problem was.
My landlord had us pay the rent in cash every month, for completely legal reasons I’m sure. At any rate after another conversation of me requesting an exterminator, and being patronized, I cracked. Here I was, 28 about to be divorced, broke, living with a roommate I barely knew and working three jobs in the the off-off-broadway world. Oh and completely, totally fucked up over my husband’s betrayal. So, I decided to prove to the landlord that I was not making a Big Deal of something that wasn’t. Every morning when I emptied the traps, I would cut off the tails of the mice. Imagine every horror movie where the woman CRACKS. Yup there I was with a cutting board and a knife. Then I saved the tails in a plastic bag. At the end of the month, I paid my landlord as usual in cash. I put it in the 3/4 full plastic bag full to tails. One month’s rent, and one month’s tails.
We had a medical event in a second floor store, patient dropped unconscious, not breathing. Our main elevators were broken, so we brought the paramedics in through a loading dock and up a freight elevator.
As we’re hustling back to the freight elevator with the patient on the stretcher, with me running ahead, carding through access doors so the paramedics don’t have to slow down, I come across the manager from the Samsung store standing at the freight elevator with a cart holding an absolutely massive television. He is just opening up the doors of the freight elevator, but waves us in and tells me he doesn’t mind waiting if I can’t close the doors downstairs right away (freight elevator doors do NOT close automatically, in order to prevent any gruesome mishaps from impatient people on other floors).
Downstairs, we wheel out into the loading bay and notice a small older model sedan parked in front of the ambulance, blocking its way.
We’re already shaking our heads, but I tell the paramedics I’ll deal with it. I step around the ambulance and tap on the driver’s side window of the sedan.
Me: ‘scuse me sir, we’re going to need to you move your car out of the bay. This ambulance needs to get by.
Asshole Customer (AC): Where’s my TV? I’m here to pick up my TV.
Me: Sir, please move forward, this ambulance needs to move past you.
AC: [Samsung manager’s name] said he was bringing my TV, where is it.
Me: It’s upstairs, we had priority usage of the elevator. Please move your car and [manager’s name] will be able to bring it shortly.
AC: No! I ordered my TV and I’m not moving until I get it.
By this point, the ambulance driver is in his seat and giving me “what gives????” gestures through the windshield and the mall’s security supervisor is checking in on the radio, wondering why he can still see the ambulance on camera.
Me: [more firmly] Sir, this is a medical emergency, I’m going to need you to move your car right away.
AC: I’m not moving until I get my TV! [crosses arms like a petulant toddler].
Me: [glances at ambulance driver, who is now gesturing frantically].
Me: *grabs sedan’s door handle, starts to open door* EITHER YOU MOVE YOUR FUCKING CAR OR SO HELP ME I WILL DRAG YOU OUT AND MOVE IT FOR YOU!
Asshole Customer recoiled like he’d been slapped, and hurriedly pawed at the ignition of his car. “OKAY OKAY I’M MOVING!” and he pulls forward, giving the ambulance just enough room to squeeze through.
The Other Boloney Girl, were you still wearing pajamas?:
I found out that my boyfriend cheated on me while borrowing my car around a midnight. I was unable to sleep. Around 7 a.m., I walked the forty minutes to his apartment (note that I had a car but knew I was too enraged to drive), rang the doorbell obnoxiously until he appeared in his robe and slippers, and just started screaming at him from the street. Folks were walking past us just trying to commute to their jobs as I was yelling about him having unprotected sex with me and god help him if he gave me an STD and what sort of person cheats on someone while borrowing their goddamned car. To anyone who witnessed that breakdown—and there were many—I am sorry. I think it was a Tuesday and you deserved a normal Tuesday morning.
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