At one point or another, we’ve all been forced to deal with that woman. You know the one that I’m talking about. The one that’s supposed to be helpful, has a look on her face like she’s constantly sniffing a big whiff of poo, and would rather stick her hand in a meat grinder than actually help you. Kind of like this:
Most of us are lucky to not have to deal with such “helpful” bitches on a daily basis. We just randomly encounter them, deal with them, and then bitch to all our friends about how the woman was secretly begging us to slap her right in her insolent mouth. It just so happens, that I had the joy and pleasure of actually working with a woman just like this.
Bitchy McBitcherton (B McB for short) was our department’s administrative assistant for a few years. You’d with that kind of title that she would be aware that assistance was part of her job. Oh no! Not B McB! The last thing she ever wanted to do was actually help you with anything which was in fact what she was hired to do.
When she initially started Foxy once asked her to help her get ready for a class. B McB’s job was to order all of the supplies and put together the binders for our new hires. When Foxy asked her to order me Investments R Us brochures, she threw a little conniption fit. “I was told that I was not going to have to do that,” was her response. “I wasn’t hired to order supplies!” Um, yeah, in fact, that’s exactly what she was hired to do. Rather than get into an argument with her, Foxy went ahead and ordered the stuff and put the binders together. She never went back to asking B McB for anything.
B McB had dreams. She thought that after she put in her time, she’d be promoted to a higher position in the department. I’m not sure what kind of crack she was smoking if she thought that something like that would ever happen with her nasty ass attitude. Even the bosses would roll their eyes at her. One time Big Boss Lady asked her to make some copies of documents for an important meeting. B McB told her that she was too busy doing something else and she’d have to make her own copies. You know what she was busy doing? I mean, aside from being a bitch? She was on the phone telling someone about her stupid dogs.
She then asked for more responsibility. When they gave it to her, she complained to the senior manager and told her that we expected too much from her and she could barely do her work. I’m not sure how that was possible as she wasn’t doing any of her god damned work to begin with.
I’m sure it’ll come as a total shock to you to hear that she was transferred to another department. That’s secret code for “managed out”. Foxy and I were so sorry to see her go that we drank an entire bottle of champagne and then set pictures of her on fire.