There’s a woman in my office who just looooooooves dissent. She’s just not happy unless someone’s pissed off at someone else, and oh, she just ALWAYS knows the whole story, don’t you know. This woman is such a gossip that someday I fully expect Louella-freakin’-Parsons to rise up from the grave, drag her rotting corpse into my office, and just slap the shit out of this woman.
This ignorant wench also just loooooooves to share information. You know the kind. Correct info, questionable info, completely-fucked-up info, she knows it all. She always delivers this information in hushed tones, prefaced by the ever-popular “well, you know, I did hear that yadda yadda yadda happened, but I can’t tell you who I heard it from, because that person would get in trouble/get fired/be drawn and quartered/cause the Pits of Hell to open in the lobby and suck us all into eternal damnation…” It’s gotten to the point where the mere sound of her voice makes me want to shove my own head into a woodchipper.
Well, I had the opportunity to correct some of her misinformation a few days ago. Because it just so happened that I actually got my information from a person directly involved. Not indirectly involved, like me or my fuckwit colleague. I spoke to someone who actually has a real clue. One of those people who, when you say “well, I got my information straight from Jane Doe in Department X,” they nod and say “Aaaaah, okay. Yep, if anyone was going to know anything about this one, it absolutely would be her.”
So, when she started in with the hushy-hushy shit AGAIN, I smiled, and said “well, gee, Idiot-Chick. That’s not what I heard. I heard yadda.” “Yadda?” she says. She rolled her eyes. “Where’d you get your information from?” “Oh, I got it from Jane in Department X. And since Jane is the one that’s going to be handling it, I don’t think she’s feeding me any bullshit.”
Her face turned beet red. I seriously thought I was going to have to dive under my desk. She looked a bit like Mr. Creosote after he ate that wafer-theen meent. But she didn’t, thank goodness. I mean, we just got remodeled six years ago, and there’s no plans for any more fixing up anytime within the next two decades.
She’s plotting against me now. I know it. Other people in my office have told me that she’s been grousing ever since. And do I care? No. Not one fucking bit. I’m glad I spoke up, in fact. I didn’t necessarily want to get her goat (although the fact that I did…well, we’ll just call it icing). But dammit, this shit-for-brains is constantly spreading bad information. This topic was one that everyone was curious about, not just me. I had the chance to give my co-workers a piece of correct information, and all but one of them was glad to have it.
Why, oh why, do people like her exist? I like my job. But dammit, people can only take so much!
