I've always had this warped conception in my mind that all people in authority were robotic, programmed tushy juicers without talent. Their souls were nothing more than a vacant room in a run down whore house which held the lingering aroma of congressmen in suspenders and papa john's garlic sauce. Their body temperature stayed at a calm cool and steady box/nut-numbing 42 below zero. And now after I worked within management I've come to find I was absolutely correct.
I can't recall the last day that I didn't clinch up my slap-a-ho hand and give Greg Moew a completely unneccessary hooker pummel in front of one of his peers with God watching. I've had the urge many of times to ask him to fetch me a scolding hot cup of coffee, and when he delivered it to me I'd 'accidently' spill it all over the front of his khakis and make him waltz around asking his alien-like followers "Would you like cream with that?" I know...uncalled for. The man is gay mind you, and I've come to think he had 'cock sucker' tattooed on his forehead then just had it removed with lazer surgery.
Granted, I've also dreamed of putting the untimely wrath of the entity Elle {BreaksFaces] amoung the vicious Greg. One example that has popped into my head is this... Lets say he's driving in his run down honda to make a deposit at the bank and I call the police and tell them he has 3 kilos of liquid columbian heroin shoved up his fat ass, I could then proceed to video tape it and post it on YouTube. Why? Because if anyone put my life through hell due to their problem with a power struggle, it was him.
In all actuality I really did worry about being labeled the jack ass boss. I've always been like that I guess. I did the same thing as everyone else growing up. When my parents would get mad at me for typical kid things like tying the neighbors cat Abby up with enough hot air balloons until she slowly began levitating. I wouldn't have gotten caught but I told my Mom "Remember that cat that kept coming in the garage at night and walking all over your car? Turns out red bull gave her wings"
Mom: "Go to your room and don't come down until I tell you to..."
Me: "What if you forget?"
Mom: "That's a chance I'm willing to take."
Me: "Do I have to go to school?"
Mom: "Yes, you have to go to school."
Me: "Just wanted to make sure you valued my education."
Mom: "Go to your room!"
Even though I don't really recall a time my mother shook her pointer finger at me and yelled at me to dash up to my room. Like I said, I was never caught.
Or the time I cut my hair and glued it to my dolls face and woke mom up telling her the doll grew a beard.
Mom: "Go to your room!"
Me: "I'm in my room!"
Mom: "Stay there!"
(Door slams...I played pop the head off the barbie for hours on end. Oodles of fun.)
And everytime I got yelled at by my parents or by my teachers or by a boss I always said "I'm never going to be like that." My friends and family assure me "Elle, there is no one else like you. You're the reason god made one of everyone. Just incase one ended up like you"...but in many other ways you have to be like those people that you thought were only there to demean you at the time. Because I know that they actually cared enough to make sure that I was going to end up atleast near the right road, if not ON the right road. They always wanted to make sure that I could see the right path to go down and hope that I would find my way there. I'm pretty sure that little bit of doubt that I keep hidden for the most part is also the part that makes me work my ass off, worry all the time and do whatever I must to get where I need to be. That fear of not being successful is the part that makes you successful. It's worrying about someone thinking you're a talentless ass clown that makes you want to achieve more. It's not hearing someone saying you're great, because to be honest, I have more insecurities than a blind kid playing pin the tail on the donkey with people that don't like him at the grand canyon. ("Keep going...almost to the donkey...and see you later," the scream lasts about 3 minutes before you see a cloud of dust similar to that of Wile E Coyote during one of his many falls of the cliff...graphic) As long as the people close to you believe in you, and what you're doing nothing else matters. Is there a moral to this blog, yes...nothing sucks quite as much as having to be the authority, having to cut the fun, having to be the bad girl/guy whether it's being the parent or sober friend or boss. But if you play it right it's possible to come out without shit being white washed acrossed your reputation. I feel bad for Brett, because I refuse to tell my child, or any children I may have, to stop trying to shave the cat.
