Happy New Fiscal Year!
I have to think of a name for my new supervisor that reflects the fact that she is both prone to wearing inappropriately slutty clothing to work as well as the fact that she is a slave-driver. I believe Jezebot will do nicely, combining as it does the words jezebel, for whore, and robot, which she must be to be this driven to work.
As soon as I got in this morning, she was telling me that she needed boxes to put case files in. And when I say, “as soon as I got in,” I literally mean that as soon as I walked in the fucking door, and as it was shutting behind me, there she was with the mere beginning of her incessant demands. These demands are many, last all day, and are not just directed at me. I just happen to be her little bitch, which necessitates me getting most of her attention. She also caught the attorney, whose case files they were, as she was clocking in. Instead of asking what the attorney wanted done with these files, she told the attorney, “You have to get your files out of the file room. We need that space.” The attorney naturally bristled at both the tone and the presumption, especially in light of the fact that she had been told by her supervisor (which Jezebot is not) to put her case files in that location. Jezebot ignored this, and kept right on going as though the attorney hadn’t said a word.
I wonder if there’s a way to indicate her many train-like characteristics in that name. She just keeps going, through logic and reality, like neither exists.
We’re having to kick out Tassy. She disappeared on Friday, and we didn’t hear from her all weekend, until rather late Monday night. It just so happened that we had Brent over Monday night, for a drinking/playing/jamming/commiseration session. This was a lucky coincidence, because otherwise Dirk & I are prone to sleeping rather early, especially when it’s cold. Tassy unlocked the door, and was going to walk right in with Nikki, but saw us and actually stopped and asked us if he could spend the night. I presume she was expecting us to be asleep, so she could sneak Nikki in without our knowledge. Nikki, from the glimpses Dirk caught through the door, looked incredibly fucked-up. Tassy is the stupidest moron I have ever known in my entire life. Thankfully, however, she left.
To understand our incredulity, there really has to be some back story. Tassy is pregnant with his ill-begotten spawn, and they are/were/are foolishly in love. She’s 20, he’s 28, and they’re both morons. On September 11, Nikki told us that he had a job interview the next day at Movie World, for an assistant manager’s position. Tassy had gone out and bought him interview clothes and everything. Dirk & I met this news with a little bit of skepticism, and an equal amount of tentative relief. Until this point, Nikki had been rather obviously not seeking employment of any kind, and making up various excuses to keep sponging off Tassy, who was paying their half of rent on her meager paychecks.
However, Nikki eventually expressed a desire to put off the interview and go to DC to pick up some money his grandmother had wired to him. As everyone in the household, including poor, deluded Tassy, knew that what this actually meant was that he’d use the money to buy drugs instead of going to the interview or paying us back, we were rather vociferously against the idea. In fact, Tassy went so far as to say that if he went to DC instead of going to the interview, he shouldn’t bother coming back. When Dirk woke up after Tassy and I had gone to work, it was obvious Nikki had gone to DC. Every light was on, he was gone, and there was strange stuff smeared into the carpet.
So, that afternoon, when Tassy came home from work, nobody was really surprised when Nikki, sounding like he was seriously fucked up, called to say that he wouldn’t be back at all that week-end, because he was sick. Everyone snorted with disbelief, Tassy screamed over the phone for him not to bother coming back, and she started packing his shit up. Everything seemed final, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
You see, we’d already told Nikki he had two weeks to leave, due to his pill-peddling, incredible paranoia, messiness, and the fact that he’s a gigantic pain in the ass to live with. After packing his stuff, Tassy admitted that his drug problem had been far worse than we’d previously suspected – the reason it seemed like they never had food was that he was constantly calling in prescriptions for Percoset and having her pay for them. She also told us that his ADHD was faked as well, which we’d long suspected was the case. When he’s on Dexedrine (or any other medication for ADHD, including Ritalin), he doesn’t sleep at all, is all over the place like a speed freak, and gets scary paranoid. Basically, he reacts the same way anyone without ADHD would on that medication. Another reason we wanted him out was that he’d gotten our phone cut off by making a ton of long-distance calls using information as the connection, which made it part of our regular bill instead of a long-distance charge. Of course, he didn’t have the money to pay it, so I had to pay for his long distance calls so we had phone service.
Now, I told Tassie that her relationship with Nikki wasn’t really our business. I also told her that Nikki was not welcome back at our apartment for any reason whatsoever. I outlined our reasons for this, and she agreed that we weren’t being unreasonable. In fact, she added more reasons why it would be wise for him to never to come over, except to fetch his stuff. I was very firm, and I made our wishes clear.
So why was it that, when he showed up at our door two weeks later, she asked if he could spend the night? I said, “Absolutely not,” and she seemed to accept this, but we later had the suspicion that she snuck him in anyway. We were going to confront her with it the next day, but Pete, the guy Dirk’s starting a new musical project with, was over, and we didn’t want to expose him to the craziness that is our life. The day after, both of us were feeling poorly, Dirk couldn’t remember exactly what had made him certain Tassy snuck Nikki in, and we were suffering from a collapse of our righteous fury. And the day after that, she didn’t come home.
Now, we aren’t her parents, but there are certain, how shall we say, niceties you learn when you live with roommates. One is that if you’re going to be gone for a few days, it’s good to let your roomies know so they don’t think you are dead somewhere, especially when they also happen to be your only support system in the area. Of course, we figured she’d gone up to DC to visit Nikki, which we were willing to write of is none of our business. Monday, she pulled the bullshit described previously. Yesterday, we didn’t hear from her at all. I don’t doubt that if we do hear from her again, it will be with Nikki in tow, asking us again if he can stay. His mom called and told us she’s going to call the police on them because Tassy impersonated her and called her doctor up to get a prescription filled. I sincerely doubt she has a job, again, because there’s no way she can make the commute to DC and back in time to work in the morning without any car.
Since I have no more tolerance for bullshit, we decided not to live with hers. Next time she comes in, we’ll tell her to get her shit packed, offer her a ride to wherever, and that’s it. No more helpfulness.
