We all have those people in our lives. You know the ones, the brutish, thugish, moronic, and otherwise mentally incapacitated individuals that make our lives so much more pleasant. These are the people that make it necessary for us to take up hobbies that involve serious physical activity, and sometimes violence. They have driven me, at various points in my life, to playing heavy-metal guitar and drums, to weight lifting four days a week, and to sword fighting (with broadswords no less) with friends to ease tensions. We went to school with these people. And now, they surround us at our places of work.
There isn't really a name for these folks. At least, not one you can utter in polite company. They are just there. Frightening in their actions, and proud of their stupidity.
My recent dealings have included an individual that shall remain nameless to protect the guilty, that fits into this category undeniably. Allow me to tell you all a little about her.
I never really understood the appeal of the valley girl. They exist, sure. And some of them are interesting to look at. But there is something lacking in these individuals that cannot be overcome by the push-up bras and the mini-skirts that they are all so proud of. That something is intelligence. And it is not just intelligence in the schoolastic book sense. No, these girls have no intelligence to speak of. They do not have the intelligence to realize that people really don't need to hear hour long stories about subjects that have absolutely nothing to do with anything. They are not intelligent enough to realize that they look foolish as they bob their head back and forth. They are not intelligent enough to understand that you cannot talk non-stop, without taking a breath, without causing severe oxygen depravation to their already obviously starved and fragile minds. Imagine my suprise when I realized that one of these girls had managed to make her way into a developers position at the firm which does our company's software development.
Now, at first I thought maybe that valley girl method of speaking was just a cary-over from a distant past. But no, I was wrong. I tried to be decent to her. I tried to understand her silly, and sometimes completely idio-syncratic method of thought. But no matter what I did, no matter how kind I was, she just shattered every hope that I ever had in her. Time after time she has proven that every project she does will, ultimately, fail miserably. And the truly amazing thing is, with this particular person, she can screw up our entire system with an update that is supposed to only touch one small part of the system. Really, she is an amazing piece of work.
This week things have come to a head. I have other frustrations as well, but she seems to be particularly stubborn in her insistence of stupidity. It all started with an update that was supposed to make the faxing on our system work for the first time since the promise was made two years ago that it would work. The good news: faxing worked perfectly with this update. The bad news: every printable thing from the system is now completely hosed-up beyond recognition.
I put the update on the system. It has somehow completely morphed beyond the small update that was added and completely destroyed so many different things that it is simply beyond belief. OK, I can deal with that as long as someone works at fixing it. I have to talk to "HER" in order to get the fix started. An hour after I place the first call, as I finally hang the phone up, my head spinning with the delusional ramblings I had heard on the other end, I realized something. This gal really is as insanely stupid as I thought she was. She would not let me finish a sentance. No, because that would prevent her from talking for about thirty seconds or so, and we just can't have that. She would come up with some of the most cock-a-mammy ideas and just blurt them out in an endless stream. I would say, "No, that's not what I said..." and she would cut me off and start rattling some other wild theory.
We had multiply conversations that day, all of them ending with me wanting to reach through the phone and strangle the breath out of her. Of course, I reasoned that doing that probably wouldn't stop her from talking. The next day things went the same. Finally, yesterday afternoon, when she spewed forth a forty-five minute story about venus fly traps and the venus fly trap that she owned I almost went over the edge. But, instead, I allowed my mind to wander through the various torture devices I would like to see her placed in. As she talked, I could almost see her head bobbing back and forth between her shoulders. Her voice lilting and high, fast and furious, I learned way more than I ever wanted to know about her history with the fly trap. It was an amazing story, fraught with peril and idiocy. "I got it when I was eight as a present and there was this shop that had flies for sale and since I couldn't find anything else to feed it during the winter I would go buy flies and just turn them loose in my room and then we had flies in the winter and the pet store where I got the flies had hand-raised birds that are really hard to find and really expensive and my fly trap was with me until I left for college when I gave it to my mom and ..." blah, blah, blah, blah.
I know you all have someone that you work with, or have worked with in the past that you would love to vent about. Maybe some of you feel scared that they could possibly see what you write about them. Maybe some of you could care less, but simply refuse to allow yourself to relive the nightmare of being around them. But, if you dare, I and your fellow (and female) K5ers would really love to hear your nightmare stories. Bend to your keyboard, and write your worst.
As to the individual of my story: if you are out there and recognize yourself, yes, I am talking about you. And yes, I do hate you. Who wouldn't?