Feed on

I was in a colossally bad mood yesterday after having to work on my day off, plus learning that I didn’t get the promotion I’d applied for (one which would have gotten me off the phone lines and allowed me to wear ear-protectors at work and not have to listen to my co-workers gabbling at the tops of their lungs all day).

Imagine half a dozen grackles, arguing lustily at the top of their leathery little lungs while simultaneously trying to cut a live pig in half with dull hacksaws.

That’s basically the ambient sound of the office in which I have the decidedly mixed fortune to work.

Being as I’m not a person who relishes noisy environments, this has been steadily making me more misanthropic and hatey, and less and less tolerant of excessive noise in other quarters of my life. In general, I’ve lost all patience with annoying people and that brings me to today’s adventure in irritation.

I’ve written before about how my particular locality is just swarming with appalling men who like to sexually harass random (or pretty much ALL) women at large. Today I had the privilege of encountering one of these swine at the library, where I was trying to find some frivolous chick lit or at least some pretty picture books about old train stations or Bowery flophouses. This joker met me at the library door with slurpy smoochy noises. I lowered my not inconsiderable eyebrows and gave him a scrote-withering death glare. It’s one of my specialties.

He scuttled off to the AV room.

I went on about my business of being a print-media hunter-gatherer. Then I made the fatal mistake of going up the the AV library to renew a DVD I had out and maybe pick up another.

The Amazing Kissy-Face Pig was still hanging around the AV room, creeping out all and sundry. I noticed three attractive young black women shooting death glares at him from the CD racks and an older, schoolteacherish white lady looking askance at him from the checkout while he bumbled around in and out of the DVD shelves.

I knew what video I wanted and I knew I was going to have to pass him to get it, so I steeled myself and my Angry Eyebrows and waded in. As expected, he launched another barrage of obscene kissing noises.

In no mood for such foolishness, I told him, aloud, and in no uncertain terms, that I wasn’t in the least interested and that he should take his lips and go fuck off with them.

He was all, “aww, don’ be so cold, I was just appreciatin'” and I was all, “and I don’t appreciate it in the least, so go find someone who does.”

Miraculously, he indeed fucked off. And the girls over by the CD section busted up laughing, complete with whoops and hoots.

One Response to “In which a vile humor serves me well”

  1. nilky says:

    Excellent and congratulations for a job well done!

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