Monday, September 19, 2011

The Devil Wore Revlon

Have you ever been under the leadership of someone so vile they made you question how you were making it to work in the morning? Why when the God-forsaken alarm clock rang every day, you didn't hit snooze and turn onto your other side? Or even better, lounge around in your favorite worn robe and watch soap operas for the rest of your days? A far cry from the glamorous and allegedly icy Anna Wintour, my boss stood in our tiny company bathroom glaring at me while she douced herself with perfume and slathered on cheap Walgreens foundation. She undermined the value of my work, manipulated the office to help cover up her laziness, and awkwardly told stories of her reconstructed face. I worked under the unpredictable wrath of this she-devil and it was worse than even an NC-17 version of Mean Girls. Aside from the fact that she was a grown adult and not a slutty teenager (or was she). She'd reel you in with stories of her personal life, only to spit you out when you forgot to refill the coffee machine. The coffee machine. As if I was some kind of personal assistant. I will have you know that my mediocre college education has allowed me to maintain the entry level title of account manager for 3 years now. Clearly I should have been held to a higher standard. Add a certain time of the month and you were a goner. If you were a woman, you were sure to end up hyperventilating in said bathroom and if you were a man, you were safest shrouding your genitalia. At some point though, the office realized we weren't the ones who were wrong. It was her, not us. No really. People had dropped like flies, but somehow the woman had lasted 15 years. She had even fired her own niece without a shred of sympathy. What could we do? We were doomed. Evil had prevailed.

Until the unthinkable happened.

After a number of complaints and proof of her utter laziness was uncovered, our vice president cornered me in the kitchen and announced that he had in fact let her go. Shock. Awe. Delight? Possibly. But then, I thought of her family. And the economy. Silently I wished her well and prayed she would turn things around.

Because in the end, the best revenge is living well.

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