Czarina Obviousa on Office Manners

Just a few basics for those who are completely without any manners or boundaries:

• Put your cell phone on silent. Seriously. No one else in the office wants to hear your ringtone. Over and over. And over. And when you do take a personal call, please go in your office or in the hall, so it’s not broadcast everywhere. And when we hear your personal business, please don’t accuse us of eavesdropping.

• Personal hygiene is done at home. Period paragraph. This includes clipping your fingernails at your desk or cleaning your ears in the break room.

• Please do not take shared office items, such as the newspaper, with you on your visits to the restroom. The rest of the office does not want to read your poopy paper.

• Please wash your own dishes. The maid and your mother are out sick this week.

• When the paper towel roll dispenser is empty, please replace. And no, it doesn’t count when you place the new paper towel roll next to the paper towel roll dispenser. If you are unclear on how the paper towel roll dispenser is operated, please ask a four year old.

• When your lunch explodes in the microwave, please clean it up. Do not keep re-microwaving it until it resembles cheese barnacles.

• There is no coffee fairy. When the coffee pot is empty, please make another pot. If you are not trained on how to make coffee, please ask the aforementioned four year old.

• When you are finished with your lunch, brunch, snack, coffee break, etc. please wipe down the mess you left on the counter and/or shared table. Again, the maid and your mother are out sick this week.

• Please take home dirty lunch containers. Do not place them in the refrigerator. This is not a science lab.

• When you are printing 587 pages on the shared printer, please replenish the paper supply for the next person. Again, the four year old can help you with this one.

You know what? How about you start looking for another job and we’ll just hire the four year old.

Czarina Obviousa on Karma

Two weeks ago, I was first in line at the stoplight. It turned green, but as I moved forward, the jackhole in the left turn only lane on the opposite side decided that the red light did not apply to him and turned left, just as the guy next to me and I started through the intersection. I held my breath, because it looked like the guy next to me would plow right into this entitled ass, and hit the brakes. The car behind me then hit me.

We both pulled over and the first thing she says to me is, “Why did you stop?”

Not “Are you okay?” or “I’m sorry.” Nope. She tried to shift the blame right out of the gate.

She then looks at my car. I drive a 1994 Toyota Corolla wagon with 206,000 miles. It’s dead sexy. She asks, “Well, what did I do?” I looked at her with a straight face and said, “You rear-ended me.”

Please try to keep up, lady-in-the-the-big-SUV-who-rear-ended-me.

“No,” she sniffs, “I mean there’s already a lot of damage here, what is mine?”

OK, I admit there was one pretty good dent in the bumper where a young woman backed into me in the Target parking lot in Austin, Texas, four years ago. The girls and I were on our first vacation that didn’t involve going to my parents’ and I got lost looking for my cousin’s house. It was really hot, it was the end of the day, and we were all cranky. I told the girl if she gave me directions to my cousin’s, we’d be even-steven. I figured it was good karma.

So the bumper wasn’t in that great of shape to begin with.

However, she did scratch it up pretty bad, plus put dents in around the hatch door, around the tag. And she messed up my “Republicans for Voldemort” bumper sticker pretty good. I was more upset about losing that. It’s probably worth more than the car.

I handed her my card and got her insurance info. I think when she saw I worked in a law office, she came down off her high horse a little.

I went home all mad. Not because of the car, but because of her attitude. She really gave off a bad first impression, because she was so judgmental of my car.

I cooled off and decided that I’d just get the undercarriage checked to make sure it was safe for driving. If there was damage, I’d give her insurance company a call. So imagine my surprise when two days later, I got a call from her insurance company, stating that she’d accepted the blame and they requested I meet one of their appraisers.

Never underestimate the power of a law office business card.

I got the estimate, and as I’d guessed, it’s a total insurance loss. I can still drive it, so I really don’t care about the damage. I was planning on giving it to The Big One when she started driving anyway.

I felt a little funny at first, accepting the check from her insurance company. But I figure, since she’s the one who did the right thing and called her insurance company and not me, and was the one at actual fault, I’d let go of that feeling. I’m stashing it in the band trip fund for The Big One and I.

Karma’s way of paying me back.