Thursday, December 27, 2007

Talking To A Wall

I've been working all this week with one of the new managers. Aside from the fact that he annoys the piss out of me in general, I had the oddest exchange with him. I try to avoid being in situations with him where we make small talk because I usually can't understand half of what he's saying anyway and when I do understand him it's usually obnoxious or just dumb. Quite frankly, I have no desire to get to know him or vice-versa. But I happened to be having a bite to eat at the bar yesterday when he oozed up next to me and inquired again why I never drink. I finally decided to get it over with and replied bluntly:

"Because I'm an alcoholic."

"No you're not."

"Um. I'm pretty sure I'd know... So, yes I am."

What ensued was a 10 minute conversation about why I'm an alcoholic and how much I drank and how I quit and all the gory details. At least as gory as I was in the mood for.

The conversation ended with him complimenting me on how matter of fact I am about it and how brave he thinks I am. Oh, and we of course had to list all the reasons why he doesn't have a problem with alcohol. AS IF.

So imagine my reaction this evening when the conversation touched on the cases of champagne that were delivered this afternoon in preparation for New Years Eve.

"We're getting ready!"

"Right" I replied, unenthusiastically.

"Are you going to have some champagne with us for New Years?"

I turned my head to him, dripping with disdain (and we know how messy that can be).

"You're a fucking cartoon! Get lost, you Muppet."

OK. I made that last sentence up. I just walked away.

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