Insecure women can bite me.
The one that was a pebble in my shoe years ago (to the point of harassment) has apparently, been reactived by her unit, and is now on the rampage again.
Things have been quiet now for almost three and a half years. What a beautiful 39 months it has been. Work conversations have been pleasant, tiptoeing towards friendly. It was hard to come down off the red-alert I was constantly on, and I thought I had finally gotten over it. Of course, harassment aside, I don't like her.
Anyway, after all this time, what sets off this rant about her is that until next week, I am in the building, behind the desk. She has begun to put herself between me and any man who might be there too. It's annoying, trying to have a work-related conversation with a manager, and have her slide her scrawny little body between us so that eye contact is all but impossible. She has even gone so far as to squeak her bony ass between a manager and myself in a manner that almost got someone's eye put out--he was doing one thing, I was doing another, and because we were closer than a yard or so together, she stepped between us and since my back was turned, I bumped into her. Good thing I wasn't flying like I usually am in the ol' work mode--I'd have definitely done some damage to one of us.
I hate bumping into anyone, and this particular woman is not someone I want to touch--in any fashion, EVER.
Grrr. Argh.
I don't need this, and as God is my witness, I've never had any inappropriate physical contact with anyone at work--let alone in front of customers, co workers, God and everybody.
She acts like some sort of insane yapping dog--Look at Me! Look at Me! The only thing she hasn't done is actually take off her shirt: but, since the dress code makes those see through ones off limits at work, she has to settle for the skin tight ones that are low cut. Lucky, lucky me--If I wanted to see tits, I wish she'd realize that they wouldn't be hers.
Along with the whole I don't want to see your tits bit, what has been apparent to me for a long time is that I do not like her. She's intelligent and funny, but I don't like her for many reasons, not the least of which is the above mentioned harassment. I dislike her smarmy, shallow "self-proclaimed best friend to the entire world" attitude. I dislike the way she speaks to me--as if I am less than She of the A-Cup.
Those reasons center on the fact that for someone who is a self-proclaimed confident, beautiful, successful woman, she spends a lot of her time trying to make others believe that she is confident, beautiful and successful. Instead of just BEING, she has to PROVE it, and get you to say so.
I also don't like her condescending attitude to other women. She treats us like we're idiots, even if we ask her a simple question about something that is work related. While there are things on the job I still don't know, and I don't care much who I learn them from, having her telling me things I already know in a way that says "you're stupid and ugly, I'm not" isn't helpful--it's annoying.
I don't like her attitude that wherever there is someone in pain, SHE knows what it's like--she's LIVED it herself. Even if, by her own admission, she's never heard of it before. Mention some odd tropical disease, and within days, she knows everything about it--even if you just made it up.
She's also everyone's (except mine) best friend--whether they know it and want it or not. But she's a fickle friend--it's always with the feeling, at least to me, that she's you're friend because somehow, someway, there's something in it for her. I guess I've gotten a favor on missing out on that one.
She seems (still) to resent that I am respected. I prefer it that way. I don't pretend to be things I'm not. I don't go along with what she says, if it's wrong. She's got issues with that also: at the point when the harassment finally got settled, it was because she'd apparently taken a few too many hits on the authority pipe and was jonesing for an ass to chew. She picked mine (and admittedly, I made mistakes in the whole thing, and that day, she'd pissed me off and I'm no good at hiding my emotions, even if I don't say anything) to chew on, and a lot of what she said at that time leads me to believe that she was convinced that her body--her tits, her backrubs, her see-through shirts--would give her the power to take me down.
She threatened my job, which was a threat to me. She told me that SHE was my superior and that I WOULD do whatever she told me to do without arguement and if I didn't, she'd see to it that paid the consequences. She also said that management was sick and tired of me, and that everyone knew I was crazy. And that if I EVER went to anyone except her for any problem EVER, she'd see to it that I paid for it. The whole thing would have been funny if I hadn't been stressing from months of all the crappy things one intelligent, desperately insecure woman can do to another human being.
Was that a power trip or what?
She apparently based her absolute authority over me on her A-cup tits, and skin tight pants. What she didn't realize is that I'd dealt with worse things than her, and I have an almost annoying sense of self-worth. To the point of sounding arrogant, I know I'm good, no, excellent, at what I do, I know that I am consistant and fair (if blunt), and I suppose in some sense, she thought she could bully me into submission to her, thereby increasing her power and self-esteem.
What I did about it was to handle it--do the usual woman things of crying and all that, first. God, the stress was killer! But, in the end, I was smart enough to know what needed said and how to say it. No heads rolled, but definite changes got made. I acknowledged the mistakes I made--and I had plenty of witnesses to what she was doing.
What I got out of it was an understanding of the managers I work with (still!) and a better control on my temper. I also got the respect that I wanted, and preferred; I got trust and, I hope, friendship (although, not, happily, with her), too.
What I don't understand is this: If she truly is happily in a committed relationship, WTF is the deal with the Secret Service Detail (protect the man with your body) she's running against me right now?
