Arrogance

For those who don't know me (and out there in blog-land, that means everyone), I work for a White Glove Mercedes Benz type of company. I myself work at a satellite office, where I don't have to wear a tie or nice slacks. As a matter of fact, I go the opposite route. In my own way of juvenile rebellion, I wear shorts, some sort of colored T-shirt, sneakers and a Red Sox hat every day. I'm not a white glove Mercedes Benz person, and I refuse to act as if I am.

Today I went out to lunch, and when I returned...parked in MY spot was a monstrosity known as a Lincoln Navigator. Not only was the vehicle in my spot, it was angled so that it was in another spot as well. As I walked in the building, I couldn't help but think, "Here we go".

Upon entrance, I was not surprised at the woman who stood in front of me. Like 95% or our company's clientele, she was blonde, about 50-ish with brand new breasts, freshly lipo-suctioned hips, thighs, and buttocks. She was wearing more jewelry than Tiffany's carries in their store window, and was wearing an evening gown as if she was going to a performance at the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C. Reminder: it was 12:15 pm on a Tuesday. To top it all off, she had a look on her face that said "I'm rich and I'm bitchy - so back off".

Of course to me, that's my cue to get up in her face.

I asked politely if she was the owner of the Lincoln. Here is how the conversation went:

Me: Is that your Navigator?

Her: Yes it is.

Me: It's actually taking up two parking spaces, and we have limited parking here. If you're staying, could I get you to move it?

Her: No, I don't think so.

Me: You don't think you'll be here long?

Her: No, I don't think I'm going to move my car. I don't want it to get hit.

Me: I don't want mine to get hit either, but I still park within the lines. I need you move your car, please.

Her: Do you know who I am? I'm a friend of the owner.

Me: Oh - I work for the owner. Can I get you to move your car?

Her: (After a stare that I can only assume she thought was menacing). I don't have time for this!!!! (as she stormed out the door to move the behemoth)

Me: Thank you ma'am.

Her: (Grunting) Huh!!!!

Me: (while walking down the hall muttering under my breath) : % *&^%$#) &*(&^%$)_":@!$

Anyone know of a good resume service? Ha!