I AM SICK! I am sick of adults - in their thirties, and forties, and fifties becoming crybabies right before my very eyes. I’m sick of complaints about pillows, and people, and light fixtures. I am sick of these retards looking in my windows late at night, hoping I’ll unlock the building to let them in. I’m sick of the adult students and their professors, aloof bitches, with no apology or apathy for the service I, and my employer provide.

I curse the day that the Spanish Teachers came to my M.egg. They came, balding and greasy, foreheads dripping with sweat. They came jeering, and complaining, angry at the four-hour drive they all endured. They projected their angst at me, the red-headed girl in the black “Summer Conferences” polo.

And I basically bent over and took it. Call me backdoor H䮮i.

This one guy, we’ll call him A.C. for “AssCrack”. AC complained the very first day he was here. He invaded my privacy, by knocking on my door at 11:30 p.m. complaining about the noise from the quad. Admittedly, the kids next door are straight delinquents. They’re at-risk kids from the ghetto or something. I caught them trying to steal the maintence golfcart last week.

Anyway, i told AC that there wasn’t much i could do. The quad is a public space after all. AssCrack made sure to let me know he wasn’t happy and wouldn’t be sleeping with all that noise. I said, “don’t let the door hit your candy ass on the way out.”… well i didn’t really say that verbally, but i was sending the message telepathically.

And I didn’t think anything more about AssCrack until today when I got a message. Apparently, Mr. Crappy Pants called RDP leaving a message, “Re: noise complaint. Assistant in the hall won’t do anything. Please call. Am very upset.” Although he wanted a call from my boss to ease his burning diaper rash, I decided to take charge.

I made him come to my room to have a face - to - face where I rather cattily let him know he was blowing everyting way out of proportion. I mean, he complained about the kids outside, and he complained about bugs in the rooms and dirty linens. Where did this guy go to college? The Marriot?

Bah.

I can’t wait for Friday. The Spanish mafia are finally, and at long last, leaving M.egg for the summer. All I have to say is F- you and adios whiny-asses!

Posted in VT, Work