Credit: Retailmavens.com (2012)
Pack your kindness, child. Patience doesn’t cut it here. You know, rule exceptions and all that. You can’t out pretend them, and you can’t out cun them. Any whiff of insincerity can be smelled from a mile away. So don’t even try. There’s a special breed of species that tramples over any purported lens of objectivity demanded of a professional. They’re the perfect blend of your worst monster. Impatient, intimidating, loquacious, demanding, indecisive. The last. Just urggghhhh. They breathe fire wherever they go. No one’s safe, apart from the finance department of tender institutions, and their investors. Hallmark traits? An inflated sense of self and worth. They put the O in Overconfident. The C in Conceited. And the D in Delusional.
The kind of people you can’t help but daydream of bashing with those dumbbells they have in gyms. Those pink, equally heavy, ones that they reserve for their female clientele. Who are seemingly unable to communicate clearly when their deadlines are, and always call you with breathless urgency that surely no Maasai moran chased by a lion could ever attempt to emulate. There’s always this fine whisk of impending doom sprinkled with a healthy dose of unrealistic optimism that you’d drop everything to serve them. Surely, an hour after they requested for your help, intricate and complex brief aside, is more than enough? Say what other clients? Of course, your office only runs by their business. Miraculously so. Never mind that your bills are too high. And they’ve run through several of your colleagues before they settled on you. Come on, of course they are not the problem.
You know them. They think they’re entitled to your nights and all your weekends. And disappear when it comes to payment. Who always have huge dreams of taking over the world, that surely you must want to hear? And elaborate plans of overcoming all their haters. Don’t even get me started on their status updates. Never, and I repeat, never make the mistake of clicking on any of them. The last thing they need is the motivation of any right thinking member of society. All this is certainly not helped by the fact that they haven’t got a thread of control to their anger. What thread? What control? What anger? It’s a riveting sight. When they are weirdly moved to deny the very things they embody. And their tongues, razor sharp, and quick to accuse, and abuse. They give village grandmothers competition on wagging fingers. To whom it’s all directed, wasted performance it may be? Their absent haters, and business partners who crossed them over. Emphasis mine.
There are people beyond affect heuristic philosophies. Who transcend reflective listening. Whom no zen mind nor amount of uninterrupted venting could ever get rid of the proverbial chip on their shoulder. Who defy every single psychology book you’ve come across. They’re not skeptical of your services, they’re just plain difficult. Sis, how you deal with this cancer of unpleasantness is to put down your club first. Throw that hidden sock dagger too, I saw it. Sigh, we don’t use family heirlooms to commit crimes. The oh so innocent pin in your hijab? Pass it over, sis. Breath deeply through your nose, and… give them the best service you’re capable of. The best advice. Yes, it’s tres painful but you took them on, and you’ve got to deliver your part. Don’t worry, you’re doing it for you babe, not them. Because no matter who is standing in front of you, whether Mzee Shee, Netanyahu, Malala. You never joke around with your work, ever. Let them hate you because of your bills. But let work be the one area they could never open their big mouths at. Okay I take back Netanyahu. Rule exceptions et al.
It’s all too easy to put them in their place, but what’s the point really. I literally cannot summon the energy to give you a scolding. Do go off, you’re the one bit of entertainment in my day. And please don’t try to praise me, or use big adjectives to refer to me. It’s always laid on just a bit more thickly, you know. So unrefined. Darling, please credit me with a bit of intelligence. Of course I’m good at my job, I work hard and pray hard about it. Even that emotional intelligence you’re always harping about. Don’t I try to laugh at your investors’ jokes, however stale? I’m sorry I couldn’t crack a smile at the misogynistic one though, I hope you understand. And no, no amount of eye balling me from across the room will change my facial expression. Even if the millions for your super duper project are threatened. See what I mean, all entertainment.
My fighting days are behind me. How can I fight someone who harms himself far more than he could any of the rest of us? Yes, I’ll sleep less hours doing your work, but I’ll still sleep peacefully. My bridge burning days are long gone. Yup. That I reserve for hypocrites, and friends who have the audacity to betray me.
Ahem, be that as it may, we’re your regular climate change placard carrying, peace preaching queens. And we never ever chase away difficult clients. So uncouth. We just give them the regular ol’ excuse – we’re busy. And no, I’m not fibbing you. You see, we really are busy living unproblematic lives. And we don’t need your negative energy and parsimonious self to disrupt it in any way. Peace.
