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15 July 2009 @ 10:57 pm
Attack of the ____?____  

"So," she said to me over the computer monitor, looking all-too-pleased with herself, "you might hear that I was griping about you a little bit.  I was just a little snarky that you haven't been returning my phone calls."

Wow...what to say to that?  I could always go the direct route, look into your aging, milky-looking eyes, and say, "Well, if there was ever any doubt in my mind that you are a no-life passive-aggressive brass-gilded cuntface, said doubt is now gone."  This is certainly what I was thinking at that moment, but thankfully for both of us my brain-to-mouth filters are considerably more stalwart than your sense of self-satisfaction.  Instead, I flick on the clinical, 'get out of my store' customer-service tone and say, "That's fine ma'am, is there anything else you need help with?"

First of all, it was one phone call and it was on my day off.  Despite the fact that I am often fine with answering work-related calls on said days off, you have already established yourself as a high-maintenance fuckabout, and therefore I want nothing to do with you if I am not being paid to tolerate your presence. 

Second of all, I am not emotionally invested in your well-being...we are neither BFF nor attached at the hip.  You bring *nothing* positive to the table...at most, you are a sink-hole of time and effort that no one wants to put up with, so they dump the responsibility of talking to you on me.

Bitch all you want.  Bitch until you choke.  It just means that when you frantically need me to support you, I'll be busy with something more important.  You are definately old enough to have heard the expression, "You catch more flies with honey than vinegar," so you can't say you weren't warned.

Oh, one last thing:  Eat me, you passive-aggressive nutjob.  Dig right in.