Home > Work > The one where it’s 2:30am and you are still an insufferable bitch

The one where it’s 2:30am and you are still an insufferable bitch

I used to be unnecessarily cruel and unusual but, through a series of (un)fortunate events, have settled into the latter as my schtick.  Especially with work – it helps perk up the mood with most Autistic children, their haggard parents, as well as the rest of our chronically ill practice.  Despite being seriously underpaid (aren’t we all?), I now find myself pottering along quite merrily in a private practice where it’s far easier to be pleasant than it is to be prickly. 

Except for the time I spend with this one woman I work with who, on sight and without fail, makes me want to smash her in her cunty cunt with a wooden paling riddled with rusty nails.

For the sake of not losing my job, let’s call her Hannelore.  She is 35 years of age, so very single (a squelch and very audible “ooh…” from her any time any male walks into the practice between the ages of 18 and 60 and isn’t horribly disfigured), some strain of Eurovision-eligible-andpeople’s-favourite European, and painfully obtuse to deal with.

Aesthetically speaking, she is safe.  Safe in a Little House On The Prairie way, with her straight and mousy-brown hair and often Amish-like, Old Maid dresses.  Unless you catch her on the days where she comes in wearing a mash of traditional Asian garb and, at completely inappropriate moments (like just before serving a patient), will ask me broad and ignorant questions about Asians and/or Asian economic history as if I were a specialist in the field.  It seems to be a favourite topic of hers, which baffles me constantly. Actually, she does this with African-wear too, and asks similar socio-economic questions of our Zambian workmate, Lette, but Lette’s a forgiving Christian (one of the rare good ones who don’t preach) so it doesn’t seem to be an issue for Lette as much as it is for me.

Behaviourally speaking,  Hannelore is worse than my 6 year old during a tantrum phase.  I have never met an adult as bad as her when it comes to transitioning from one task to another when it isn’t part of her job description.  She has a bizarre way of interacting with patients, often choosing to be abrasive with the nice ones and uncharacteristically polite to the hosebeasts that expect the world.  She constantly interrupts people while they talk to her and, if she’s feeling particularly belligerent, will start sighing and slamming down all sorts of stationery.  She will also choose the busiest times in our workday to sit with a handful of pens and will trial them on a blank piece of paper while the world goes by, drawing facetious lovehearts and smileys to find a mood-suited pen to use for the rest of her shift. She lacks any sort of lateral thinking, to the point where I had to explain to her that by “Write the details required in the blank space” actually meant write the details required in the blank space on the form.  The form in question took up 1/3 of an A4 sheet of paper, so it’s not like it was a brainteaser.  Idiot.  She has this infuriating unwillingness to be adaptable and to being flexible, particularly if it’s to benefit any sort of group, like the rest of her workmates.  Which effects everyone on a daily basis. Come to think of it, she is never pleasant.  When she is cordial (a good day for her), she will still manage to crawl up your arse by just being her.

She also has what seems to be an uncontrollable need to one-up everybody’s story… for example, three weeks ago, another co-worker’s 10 year old son was hit quite seriously by a car and required extensive cosmetic and reconstructive surgery to his face and body so, while everybody was milling around the office feeling this collective shock, Hannelore decided to bitch and moan about how she had some obscene amount of credit card debt and that the co-worker’s son wasn’t the only one with problems. 


Unfortunately, the rest of us in Medical piped up about her terrible bedside manner the day after she passed her probationary period.  Now we all have to do this bizarre dance through the vicissitude of shifts, and I can’t help but be thankful for the fact that we now rarely see each other any longer than an hour.

So it goes.  There are just some people you will not get along with.  Or perhaps I’m being too harsh?  It’s to the point where I honestly do not care to know anything about her because it would mean that I would have to spend more time with her.  Which I could only imagine would not be unlike the unrelenting agony of an unanaesthetised and untreatable flesh-eating virus whilst being pummelled in the face with a mace in a salt lake, hogtied and gagged, with the pain condensed into seconds.

Or maybe I should thank her?  I mean, I come off looking quite normal/logical/rational, which would be a pretty hefty first.

Categories: Work
  1. September 16, 2009 at 11:26 am

    That isn’t who I think it is, is it?

  2. BourbonBird
    September 16, 2009 at 11:37 am

    It’s exactly who you think it is.

  3. September 16, 2009 at 1:18 pm

    Oh my gods, she’s like a disease.

  4. September 16, 2009 at 2:19 pm


  5. September 17, 2009 at 8:43 am

    Wow. You can be a real hater. Gotta tear someone else down to bring yourself up, don’t you? Tut tut.

    Congratulations on the new blog, though. Get some pictures on it. Pradeep riding Domo-kun… or vice versa.

  6. Recon
    September 18, 2009 at 8:00 pm

    Wow she sounds stupendously painful to be around. I’d rather sit in traffic covered in brown sugar with a hornets nest nestled in my lap than work with her. Good for you, with the tolerance and patience and what not..

    Ps: welcome back. Nerding these waters isn’t the same without ya.

  7. BourbonBird
    September 21, 2009 at 1:34 pm

    Shells: Yep. She’s awful.

    Otto: Hi! You’re awesome!

    Mark: I know, I’m doomed but at least I feel a bit better about myself because she’s so horrid and I get to poke at her passive-aggressively. Tut, indeed. I’ll put pictures in when I can be bothered or need filler.

    Erik: Glad to be back, I’ve missed your supreme nerdcore.

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