There's something about me that really angers people. A nice guy like me.
Maybe it's because I'm so open, vulnerable, intelligent, handsome. I don't know.
It's uncanny how I have this innocent ability to infuriate. If I could just channel it, find a way to make money off it. For example, I've taken my share of low blow cruel shots at work. I've worked for some vicious, sadistic, dishonest, scheming people.
I had a manager one time slam his fist on my desk in front of other employees over some trivial matter. Now, if I walk into his office and hit him, I'm up on charges of assault in battery. I have to spend at least a night in jail (I've already been there once), pay a fine, money I don't have, or do public service picking up leaves alongside the highway in orange pajamas.
He slams his fist on your desk because he’s afraid of his boss over him, and wants to use you as a scapegoat. You know you have to pay a bill and can’t quit your job. So you take it. You need the pay, so you take it from him. The system favors the abuser.
But you don’t have to take it lying down.
It seems that life is a conspiracy designed to humiliate. Always petty humiliation. Like the late Rodney Dangerfield used to say, "I don’t get no respect."
Back in the Old West, you could just shoot it out with the bastard. But no more.
Nowadays, you have to take his insult if you want to keep your bill paying job, until it gnaws at your guts. There's a better way to deal with these people.
For example, the abusive boss who slammed his fist on your desk over nothing: He does a quarterly written job evaluation of you that says you’re a brainless wimp, a report that’s full of falsehoods because the abusive boss needs to act tough with you, the scapegoat, so he can convince his boss that he’s a no-nonsense manager—the boss who he (the no-nonsense manager) is afraid of.
He’s chosen you to make an example of so he can make points with his boss. This is the corporate world.
You refuse to sign the false evaluation. He gets mad and calls you into a meeting room to threaten you.
That’s when you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom but go into the hallway instead and call his office phone. He goes into his office to answer it. You fake a sexy female voice and put him on hold. You return, get his coffee cup off the table, go back out into the hall, and urinate in it. Then you return it.
He comes back, sits down, drinks some coffee, smacks his lips, and tells you what he will do to you if you don’t sign.
"Have some more coffee," you say.
Or, leave him some ear wax.
Let me explain.
If you know anything of history, you might know that people in Victorian times used to give locks of their hair, usually preserved in a glass locket, as a loving keepsake. This was sweet. But if parts of you can be used for expressing affection, why not disdain?
If you have a plugged ear, remove some of the wax (safely, not with a Q-tip), and place it in a small glass vial.
Walk to your mean boss's office, look around, make sure he's gone, and place the vial on his desk. Then leave.
If he's a real sadist, and if you're lucky, he'll think it's cinnamon and mix some in his coffee.
You think this is petty? We live in petty times. I mean, c'mon! Some people really deserve it. Look at government officials. You say to yourself, what rock did they find this guy under?
I had a supervisor who called me behind my back "worthless." You really have to say to a guy like that, "thank you for having faith in the potential value of a single human being."
Another boss told me, "I wouldn't give you the sweat off my (body part - dirty expletive deleted)."
Right then and there, I made the determination to give him the sweat off my (dirty expletive deleted).
I went to a sauna and sweated some sweat off my expletive.
I put the sweat in a small vial (excellent small glass vials can be purchased at any gold prospecting shop near you). I put the vial on his desk.
There are many more things you can do.
Order my new CD and accompanying booklet, "How to Enjoy Corporate Emasculation," only $79.95 while supplies last.
I show you all the in-and-outs—for example, how to call your boss a swear word to his face in seventeen foreign languages. He won’t know what you’re saying, and I promise you he deserves it, and this will make your day.
Let’s face it. Much of life is having your cojones removed if you’re a man. I don’t know what’s removed if you’re a woman. However, studies show that women rationalize and accept petty humiliation much better than do men and often respond to it by overeating. There are a lot of unhappy, fat women out there who should buy my new kit.
The package also includes a directory of women who, for a small fee, are willing to go up to your boss’s house, knock on the door, and tell his wife that he took advantage of her in his Ford van.
Believe you me, the world will take on a different look for you from the moment you start putting my practices into practice. You’ll forget all about your earlier vow to go in a closet with a pistol and do the right thing to end your suffering. Don’t do that. Don’t get mad—or sad.
For example, I can show you how to use your body odor to get back at the SOB.
Or, I show you how to design and place a tiny microchip tracking device on your boss’s jacket so you can tell where he is all day. This is particularly useful in big office buildings. Let’s say he’s come from an angry meeting where female subordinates told him he was going to be slapped with a sexual harassment suit.
You missed the meeting, and the bad blood. He’s angry. He needs to chew somebody out. You.
He searches all over for you. The bathroom. But you already left. Your tracking device saw him coming. Then the lunchroom. You left there two minutes before he arrived. While he searches for you in the boardroom, you’re in his office lifting and drinking a Heineken from his executive refrigerator.
At five o’clock you appear, and he yells, "Where were you?"
"I’ve been looking all over for you," you calmly respond.
Try this three times a week and he’s ready for a heart attack. He’ll avoid you. You’re freaking him out.
I show you how to master the art, how to become, if not the king of the corporate jungle, then the emasculated underling king. Only $79.95. Order now!
Copyright 2012 Sammonsays.com. Used with permission.
Photo Credits: Flickr/WallTea, The Booklight.