The work nemesis
So remember I used to have a work nemesis way back in the days I had work? Well there is a new one. A man whose hatred of me is equalled only by my disgust at him. Luckily for him he’s in the North West. He was destined to be a nemesis as:
a) He has really thin lips
b) He’s divorced and thinks all women are evil
c) I’ve been brought in to do a project in 3 months that he’s failed to manage in 13 years
d) I’m fabulous
Today was a training day. He criticised everything that I delivered and found fault. I thought about the key rule of getting paid; shut up until they’ve paid the invoice. I saw that other people picked up on his animosity so as he got more blister red I got more smug and just nodded at him in pity. This made it worse. I don’t know how to break this to you my precious but I do good smug.
After the meeting 3 he was just standing there waiting for his chance to show me up. We started talking about celebrities and he did that 3rd partying thing where it looks like you’re talking about something but actually you’re attacking.
We were talking about the local area and I mentioned that someone had suggested that I become a wag. The woman saw this as the insult it was and we started talking about how thick some footballers were. Nemesis steps in and says “You probably would only get one from Stockport county anyway not Man City or United.”
This my precious was like declaring outright war. A non league team? And he knew I supported Man UInited. I’m from London. It’s obvious l could only support Man U!
The conversation turned to Jimmy Savile as I’m sure it does at water coolers. Having now established that I was a Man U fan he then said that he wouldn’t be surprised if David Beckham got done for something similar. The others and I agreed that we would hear of many affairs, some possibly with men in the future but kiddie fiddling? Highly unlikely. His colleagues moved away from him.
I was silently fuming. How dare he score. Technically this wasn’t work time. It was lunch. I could be me. I had to strike back. Otherwise these people would see me as his bitch.
I asked about property in the area. Turned out that £70K can buy you a pretty big house in those parts. Drat! I wasn’t impressed. I felt duped by London inflated prices. So I brought up X factor. After establishing he liked Tweedy Chav I innocently suggested that she married Ashley Cole as a PR stunt to avoid being labelled a racist and now she’s addicted to black ….men. Did he (nemesis) think there was any validity in the myth about black guys? The ladies and I laughed. Nemesis went red. As red as my Man U key ring.
Now that I know the man has a small dick I bet the fucker won’t try that shit on me again.
© Chelsea Black