an open letter to the rat-bastard who ruined my day 



Dear Self-Aggrandizing A-Hole,

From the moment I first met you, I knew, with absolute clarity, that you were a complete moron. Whereas I concede that it is most-likely true you possess some sort of expertise in a particular field (I've heard it's something to do with computers) and that you may even be slightly more intelligent than the average middle-aged, slightly-balding, grey-haired, pudgy, unmarried, spectacled troglodyte, that does not mean you have the right to go around attempting to make life difficult for those you deem to be lower than yourself.

Please note my biting sarcasm when I say, thank you so much for sending that scathing email to my "superiors" at work. Thank you for taking something I said completely out of context and making unfair judgments regarding my character based solely on that one comment. True, you don't know a thing about me, but, hey, you volunteer a couple hours a week at my place of employment, working with the criminal delinquents there, who, I'm sure, you think are so "misunderstood." That must mean that you know more about them than I do, despite the fact that I spend seven days/40 hours a week there. So, you think I "could not care less about the success" of the juvenile in question, based solely on the thing you heard me say. Maybe if you had been there for the extended version where I spent a lot of time talking to this particular individual before you arrived, telling him exactly what he needed to do to ensure his success on the outside, you would not have been so quick to judge me. But you're the expert, right?

If I were the passive-aggressive type, I would take a house-key to that nice, red Mercedes you drive. You know the one; the car you drive because you think it makes you look important in the eyes of others. But I'm not that type of guy. Good thing for you... because I know where you live. I know this because I used to live in the same apartment complex as you. Of course, I would have thought that someone who drives a new Mercedes Benz would own a house and not rent a one-bedroom apartment in Santa Ana. But who am I to judge? I drive a Saturn, which I'll soon be trading in for a bicycle, most likely, and the crowded streets of Shenzhen, China--where I'll teach Chinese kids how to improve their English skills (and I guarantee you, those Chinese kids will be more apt to learn a thing or two than the sociopaths with whom you volunteer your piddling few hours each week).

I want you to know, you miserable little man, that your attempt to make problems for me at my work means absolutely nothing. Sure, I let it ruin my day yesterday, but beyond that I am not going to let it affect me. Why? Because I don't care what my supervisor thinks. I don't care what the administration thinks. I don't care what the majority of my coworkers think. And I don't give a flying rat's rectum what you think. Today, I will put a smile on my face, go back to my job where I will continue to work for the next five months (four months if you take into account the one month vacation I'll be taking in April--did you know I've taken a full month off each year for the past three years?), and nothing--I say, nothing--is going to get me down.

Sincerely,

Your Biggest Fan 

Posted: Thu - February 24, 2005 at 02:53 AM           |

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