Tuesday, March 9, 2010

I'm Screwed

There is a woman that I work with who drives me out of my mind. She's very nice, and she means well, but she's not necessarily the sharpest knife in the drawer. There is no single thing that she does that is that bad, but when you add all of them up, it can be a bit grating on the nerves.

One of her "things" is that she's always sharing her food. If she pops popcorn or has a bag of grapes, she always pops up and asks the people in the surrounding cubes if they would like some. Every time someone says "no thank you" she then has to confirm with a "are you sure". No one ever wants any of her snacks, but she still asks several times a day and we go through the same process again and again.

This morning she picked up a plate of fruit that was left over from a meeting she had attended. Not wanting any of it go to waste, she started lobbying my whole aisle with an aggressive campaign of "are you sures".

I have a very low tolerance for repetition, but I do my best to be polite in situations like this. Like I said, she means well. She really does seem to be very emotionally invested in the fate of the fruit. However, after asking me if I was sure I didn't want any fruit for the fourth time in five minutes, I was finding it difficult to hold back the snark.

Oh how I wanted to go off on her. First of all, YES, I'm pretty sure I'm capable of determining that I don't want any slimy fruit that people have had their hands all over. It's pretty safe to assume that I'm not so indecisive that I can't make basic decisions and stick with those decisions for a full five minutes. Second of all, it's fruit! Yes, it's a shame that it's going to waste, but I really don't think we are going to hurt it's feelings by not eating it. It's not going to sit in the garbage sobbing over being rejected. It is not alive! Fruit has no feelings! ARGH!!!!!

Don't worry, instead of freaking out, I calmly replied for a fifth time that I would not like any fruit and excused myself. Best not to tempt being asked again.

As I walked away, the first thought that came to mind was that I could lend her Michael for a while, and that would teach her not to ask the same thing over and over again. Mr. Contrary would not tolerate such a thing, and I'm pretty sure she'd change her habits if it would reduce the tantrums. (Hey, it worked on me.)

I've known all along that Michael gets his contrariness from me. That's why I'm more tolerant of it than other people. I get it. What I have failed to recognize is that my contrariness comes with a huge dose of sarcasm and snark. At 38, I still have to bite my tongue to avoid being a smart ass, so you can imagine how bad I was as a teenager. And that's when it hit me. My contrary child is going to grow up to be a wise ass teenager.

And I am going to be his target.

10 comments:

Steph said...

You are right- you are in for it as he gets older.

Your post about co-workers is one of the many reasons I love telecommunting for work.

Steph said...

Hmm, if only I could spell!

JenFen said...

The first words out of my mom's mouth when the we found out we were having a girl was "yeah! Now you are going to know what it is like to raise a teenage girl".

So I guess you are going to find out what it was like to raise a wise-ass teenager. Sorry about that.

LauraC said...

Ditto on Steph's comment - love telecommuting. But even that has its drawbacks dealing with people over the phone.

And you just NOW figured out you are screwed? Funny!

Heidi O said...

Are you sure about that? Really?

My kids stay away from sarcasm at this point. I worry about once they find that muscle and flex it.

Maria said...

Do you want some fruit?!

Kara said...

You are so right! Sorry.

Stacey said...

Oh dear...

Karen said...

This post makes me realize I don't miss annoying co-workers at all. You remember my PITA, don't you??

Carrie77 said...

My cube is close to the 'kitchenette' and someone burns popcorn in there everyday around 2pm or so. Everyday. Seriously, it sucks. And, then the smell gets in my hair and clothes and I smell like burned popcorn. Yeah, it sucks.