Friday night video jukebox: Rage issues

Back in my NYC decade, I was trapped in a job I had to keep because I was paying the ex-Mrs. Tex’s way through grad school. It paid fairly well but I worked for a bunch of assholes, handsome well-groomed men in incredibly expensive beautiful suits, men who ordered me around and treated me like a doormat, made fun of me, joked behind my back about my “lifestyle,” and all too often, left me to work late on Fridays as they breezed off to the Hamptons.

During that period, I remember spending a lot of time alone in our Park Slope apartment, listening to Exile in Guyville, and especially this song — usually under the influence of at least several substances — impotently plotting revenge scenarios that never happened.

Fast forward to the last month or so, since a certain pugnacious asshole entered into the orbit of individuals with whom I have to collaborate at work. In our bureaucratic hierarchy, this chump is still just a bottom-feeder, but he’s higher on the totem pole than I’ll ever be, so he’s singled me out as some kind of symbolic roadkill on his path to power, subjecting me to a seige of pettiness and general dick-headed fuckery.

All of which has recalled that earlier time, and this song.

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5 Responses

  1. just send an anonymous complaint to campus security about sexual harassment in the men’s room. He’ll be out in no time…

  2. whoah dude! I think we were simultaneously posting on each other’s blogs.

  3. we R psy keek !

  4. oy, darlin, I am so sorry. working for pricks that take assholicism to entirely new heights is so life sucking. keep venting.

    ps: love the song.

    you always say “it” whatever “it” is so perfectly!

  5. thing is, I don’t work for this jerk. I’m supposed to work WITH him but he seems to think otherwise. And the people I do work for don’t think that’s a problem, which is really what’s pissing me off the most.

    serenity now!

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