This afternoon, I was taking a break, speaking with a colleague from the university who had stopped by to show me some poems we're considering for the university's literary magazine. I was in the lounge, and a coworker came in, obviously perturbed.
"I'm sorry. I needed our clerk to answer the phone," she said.
I started to apologize, saying that I hadn't heard the phone ringing.
She plastered a smile on her face that reminded me of an adult speaking to a very small, mentally-challenged child. "It never rings in here, and my partner and I are trying to talk to our patients on the phone."
I apologized, not wanting to make a scene in front of my university colleague, and my coworker left. Obviously sensing the tension, my colleague made a hasty exit, as well. I was left, red-faced and really pissed.
My coworker has a very strong personality. (That's code for "my coworker can be a bitch.") She is always right, even when she's wrong. She enters situations that require tact and a modicum of diplomacy like a member of the Taliban at a Hillary Clinton fan club meeting. My coworker takes no prisoners, ever.
My few words about rudeness in the workplace basically boil down to the golden rule: treat others the way you want to be treated. That way, nobody's feelings get stepped on, abused, or demolished. My coworker needs to learn this lesson.
Saint Marty now needs to start planning his revenge. He's contemplating a scathing poem in which his thinly-disguised coworker is transformed into Mitt Romney on election night.
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| It works for kids... |
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