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New Pet Peeve
Oct. 30th, 2015 09:38 amI really like my job. I do. And part of my job is to provide some incidental services upon request. It's really not a big deal. But I am currently really irritated with the variations on, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a pain," and "I hope you don't think I'm too inconvenient," because, really, what the fuck do you expect me to say? Reach deep into your imagination, assume I like my job enough to want to continue to be employed, and what responses can you blu-sky I might come up with? If you can come up with anything other than a variation on "It's fine, I don't mind at all, you are not a pain," you are an idiot.
What we have here is an hierarchical, economic relationship. Sorry, tough, but that's what's going on. When you ask me for reassurance about you being importunate, you are doing one of two things. The first is demanding reassurance for your insecurities from someone who has no choice but to offer them to you. This is a shitty thing to do, akin to threatening someone unless they say that they love you. While your physical needs do fall within my purview, your emotional needs do not, and you are extending the relationship to coerce me into serving your emotional needs, and really, if I weren't at work I'd tell you to fuck yourself. But, of course, I am at work, and that's entirely the point. So I will reassure your sorry ass that you're a fine human being, even if I don't mean it. And if I do mean it? There's absolutely no way to be sure, because see "hierarchical, economic relationship" above. You can only get one response out of me, and now you have it, and yes, it's unsatisfactory. Sorry about that. Nothing to be done. On the other hand, if you are so utterly oblivious to the actual nature of our relationship that you think that I might tell you the truth, I spit on your delusions and your arrogant ignorance of what it is like to work in a service industry.
For fuck's sake, for enough money, any whore will tell you she loves you and that you give her the best orgasms ever. Some people find that satisfying. But it's not an authentic relationship, bucko.
But I would like to reiterate that I really do love my job, and that I don't usually mind doing the various things that my job entails, and that does include a certain amount of personal care and service. However, it's not personal. It's not you. I do it because I love my job. You, I barely know you. And, you just got on my last nerve.
Can you tell it's Friday? Also, I need a fucking vacation.
What we have here is an hierarchical, economic relationship. Sorry, tough, but that's what's going on. When you ask me for reassurance about you being importunate, you are doing one of two things. The first is demanding reassurance for your insecurities from someone who has no choice but to offer them to you. This is a shitty thing to do, akin to threatening someone unless they say that they love you. While your physical needs do fall within my purview, your emotional needs do not, and you are extending the relationship to coerce me into serving your emotional needs, and really, if I weren't at work I'd tell you to fuck yourself. But, of course, I am at work, and that's entirely the point. So I will reassure your sorry ass that you're a fine human being, even if I don't mean it. And if I do mean it? There's absolutely no way to be sure, because see "hierarchical, economic relationship" above. You can only get one response out of me, and now you have it, and yes, it's unsatisfactory. Sorry about that. Nothing to be done. On the other hand, if you are so utterly oblivious to the actual nature of our relationship that you think that I might tell you the truth, I spit on your delusions and your arrogant ignorance of what it is like to work in a service industry.
For fuck's sake, for enough money, any whore will tell you she loves you and that you give her the best orgasms ever. Some people find that satisfying. But it's not an authentic relationship, bucko.
But I would like to reiterate that I really do love my job, and that I don't usually mind doing the various things that my job entails, and that does include a certain amount of personal care and service. However, it's not personal. It's not you. I do it because I love my job. You, I barely know you. And, you just got on my last nerve.
Can you tell it's Friday? Also, I need a fucking vacation.
