The Smug Satisfaction of Being a Prick

How do I loathe many of the people I work with? Seriously, these people are useless. Somehow I became the accidental techie of the office. Perhaps it's because of a brain capacity greater than a 3 year-old... turkey! Perhaps it's because I can read. Mostly, it's because I have magic powers and can see that little "Help" menu at the top of EVERY SINGLE window I open.

I hate being the accidental techie. I've been yelled out when the answer I gave wasn't what they wanted to hear. I've been dragged off the phone by someone who had to have immediate access to their eBay account. It can be brutal, but it's my reality.


Everyone in the office comes to me -- everyone except for the "Tuna Melt" chef, the temptress of Chatsworth, the Grand Dame of the Office Collection. Mrs. Kiss Ass was never a fan of mine, nor me her. It's only become worse since I've set my sights on both her beloved Pot Luck and office gift giving.

Today, she broke the postal meter. That's techie! Whoever will help her? Well, she's now asked 3 co-workers to help her while avoiding me. And she's asked them in Spanish, assuming I'm too ignorant to understand her and won't chime in with assistance. (I still haven't told many people here that while I don't speak Spanish, after studying it for five years I can understand it pretty well.)

She can ask the homeless guy peeing on my window in Pig Latin for all I care. I will not volunteer my services until she comes wallowing into my office, reduced to her crippled, arthritic knees, tears causing the blue eye shadow to run down her face. And then, I'll walk over to the maching and hit the power button, because I'm sure that's all it needs!