It’s Called Healing People

Warning: Don’t read this if you internalize insults made to strangers out of anger, or if you externalize those insults and apply them to entire groups of people, or just don’t read this because I get pretty offensive. But for a good reason. At least I think so. It’s called healing people. But don’t read it.

You ever have one of those days where you worked a really crappy job full time for about two years without a complaint and nearly perfect attendance while going to school full time majoring in an area where there happens to be an opening in the Hotel Casino you work for in marketing, and you have A’s and are about to graduate in a month or so with a degree in Advertising and so you apply for this opening which is an entry level position that you qualify the fuck out of and you’re sure you’ll at least get an interview and you’re ready because you know your shit and have worked your ass off but a month passes and you hear nothing so you go to the head of the housekeeping department because your shitty job is as a houseman and you bring it up and she informs you that she took it upon herself, she knowing you well since there are only like 200 people in this department and she’d been there like three months and never said two words to you, that you never went to Gonzaga and that you did not transfer to UNLV at all and that your application is a lie and that she told the marketing department that you should not even be considered for the position and it’s too late anyway because one of her son’s friends with worse grades, who didn’t have to work his way through college, and who isn’t already employed for years at the casino already got the job?

Yeah me too.

When this happens to you, it happens to all of us I’m sure, there is only one way to handle it. The first step is to stop working so hard. Fuck them and fuck what’s her name… she might still be there, something Italian, used to be head of the housekeeping department, you know her. Anyway fuck her and fuck the Mirage mystery hotel casino in Las Vegas I worked at. Time to vacuum those fucking 5,000 square feet of hallway carpeting? Screw that let’s hang out in the storage closet and take a nap. Awe, so sad guest forgot toothbrush, I’ll put it on my list of shit to do somewhere in between try to flirt with cute foreign housekeeper and take another nap. More openings in different departments at the kiosk by the cafeteria? Cool let’s show them what a fake application really looks like, “Hire me. I like Giraffes and play with my willy into the towels.”

Stuff like that. It’s called healing people, get with it. The point is, if you get fucked over by a large company, don’t quit, fuck them back.

And I realize it was not the entire Mirage’s casino’s fault that the head of a department is a fucking cunt hole between the legs who lies about an application that is none of her business either because she’s a vapid bitch who can’t be bothered to ask you or check the facts, or because she’s a conniving bitch who wants someone else to get the job, but the Mirage did hire this fat pile of rolls, caked-on makeup and gallons of perfume to cover the sewage scent I can only guess was emanating from her cavernous lady hole buried somewhere in between those hairy Goodyear blimp-sized thighs so wide she probably couldn’t even piss between them but instead had to wait till the pressure of stored urine reached critical mass and burst through flooding all of the moss and bacteria that had evolved to develop intelligent life and thus the circle of life begins anew.

They did hire her and I couldn’t very well take a piss in her office while she was having her 10th lunch of the day… could I? Could I? COULD I!!!!

This is about healing people, not peeing in offices or degrading women or being insensitive about weight issues or lady smells usually easily cured with over the counter medication and a shower. That’s not the point. Healing. And okay a couple of those paragraphs are harsh, but did you ever hear about primal yell therapy? Look it up. Healing can get pretty weird.

And I’m all better now. No really I am that was like what? Over a decade ago? I totally don’t live for vengeance have an overdeveloped sense of justice and am utterly void of any inner self-editing mechanism when it comes to things like this. For fucks sake I’m a 100% legitimate adult not even a young adult anymore. I wouldn’t do something at the bar last night like…

Friend: “What time should I get up if I have to be at the airport at 7?”

Me: “Ooh! You know what would be funny? If you got a hotel to give your cell phone a wake-up call, no don’t worry I’ll do it wait this is funny <calls number to Mirage mystery hotel> Hi, my name is Seymour, can I get a wake-up call at…” “I’m sorry sir you need to call from your room to get a wake-up call” “No it’s okay this is my cell.” “Sir you need to…” <snores> “Ooh, so sorry, I have narcolepsy you see and I <snores>  sorry about that I have a… <snores> still there? Okay good… <etc. etc. till they finally hang up phone>

Me: “No wait I got this. Give me your phone.” <calls Mirage from friend’s phone, puts on old lady with emphysema voice> “My son has narcolepsy! And he fell asleep because you won’t give him a wakeup call! How dare you! Now I don’t know what kind of business you run but not giving my son a wakeup call just because he has a medical condition… I mean what is this now? I’m going to call my son and have him call you right back!” “Mam, your son needs to call from…” <hang up friend’s phone> <call from my phone as Seymour again. One thing leads to another. Their time is wasted wake-up calls are made, the world is a better place>

Healing people.

About Please Return to Owner

I'm your deranged avatar, a figment of your fevered imagination. Breath a word of this to no one. They'll all call you crazy.
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Really? That's so interesting. You don't say. Uh huh... What! No I'm totally listening!

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