I am faced with a dilemma of monumental proportions. I have a colleague who works in the office opposite, our office doors open directly opposite each other, and he continuously comes into my office to give me his views on the world. He is young, racist and narrow minded. I want to hit him with a stick.
He is one of the I.T. guys though, and we all know that you don’t want to mess with the I.T. guys because they can make your life a misery for ever more. One of them set the spell check to change one women’s name when she sent emails and she could never work out what had happened.
To make it worse, the I.T. Irritant is hearing impaired and has a major stutter. It would be like kicking a puppy.
But I really, really want to hit him with my stick. I have tried all the usual hints, like continuing my work, shuffling papers, packing up my bag, leaving the room (he returns as soon as I do!).
The only thing that makes him scuttle is when his supervisor is sighted heading our way. I fear that he may think I am encouraging IT Irritant, when in truth, I want to drive my letter opener through his heart. I can’t shut the door, as then students think they can’t come to me for research help.
Today I ate my lunch and read the paper as he stood in front of my desk and yabbered away. I started to disagree with everything he said (usually I just utter things like “really”, “of course”, “no way”, “um, yeah”. He barely stopped for air.
Mr FD suggested that I shuffle papers and murmur that I have to get some really important work finished. I don’t know whether to take his advice, as I never have before in 35 years of marriage and if I do Mr FD may just drop dead from the shock, but that would be like killing two birds with one stone for me, so maybe I should.
I could talk to his supervisor, but Supervisor is not a man with a subtle bone in his body, and I think that is more than likely to end in Flamingo Dancer’s name mysteriously being changed to Flaming Dumpster at the end of each email for the rest of my life.
I am thinking of resurrecting the voodoo doll from the Basement of Discontent and stitching a little penis on it (it needs to be male to represent IT Irritant; I do not have penis envy.) Maybe I could stitch the doll’s mouth shut, or poke a pin in its throat, just deep enough to give him laryngitis for a month or two.
Somehow I am going to wreak havoc on him, but maybe not before he builds my new library web site. I missed a fine opportunity this week, when I was too good at holding in my evilosity, forgot that I don’t do nice and arranged a birthday cake for him (remember I have been ill recently) – I could have put laxative in his slice, or ground glass, or pins therefore saving the search for the voodoo doll.
Ah to hell with it, I am just going to put him on the stick list and beat him to a pulp.