The game is called tit for tat. It is an old English expression denoting the rule of equivalent retaliation. Game theorists believe it is a highly effective strategy in most types of contests.
Yesterday, the entire company received another one of those annoying corporate eMails indicating that Green Week was coming up. It would begin September 12. I was later notified, by one of my favorite people, that I was on team 4. Team 4 contains several of my least favorite people, and my absolute least favorite person in the entire world.
That would be the nasty little Scorpio I have mentioned before.
"No fucking way! I won't have it!" You don't know this chick. This is a real Type-A control freak who strangles the life out of any project. A true over-officious jerk if there ever was one. She takes these utterly meaningless corporate contests as if they are her chance for a Super Bowl ring and the Hall of Fame in Canton. She is way to competitive about nothing.
I demanded that my favorite person move me to another team. She said she could not. Human Resources had made up the teams. HR would have to change the teams, if the teams were to change. No one expected me to petition HR for a change of teams. Guess what? They were wrong. I did.
HR wanted to know why I wanted a change of teams. I told them. I am a brutally honest dude and a very tactless Virgo. I spat it right out. They moved me.
Now, it turns out that my boss, and let's just call him Coronal Gadaffi, got wind of this. Psychically, I could feel the guy seething and raging yesterday afternoon. I am sure he was pissed off that I nicked his darling Condoleezza's reputation in front of the HR department.
When a man loves a woman, she can do no wrong. He'll break up with his best friend if he puts her down.
I am far from his best friend. Under different circumstances I might have been. I just knew something was going to happen on this day. I never expected it to be quite this lame, though.
Around 3:30pm I was called into HR.
The two HR ladies told me they were asked to investigate my schedule by one of the managers who did not feel comfortable asking me about this subject "themselves". Wanna bet that is Gaddafi? Of course it is. He didn't want to confront me himself because he knows I know. I know he knows I know. I know that he knows that I know that he knows.
He knows I can be explosive about this little thing, and I would not be willing to stay within the boundaries of the little rebuke with him. I can fight very, very dirty. It would be a messy, messy, messy thing to confront me face to face. Could blow a man's entire day.
Sign of weakness. I see a sign of weakness here.
The two HR ladies wanted to know about my schedule. I didn't seem to be working a normal full-time schedule. Of course, this was about my lunchtime workouts. The HR ladies, who are very nice, insisted they know whether these workouts were doctor-mandated. I told them it would be easy enough to produce the doctor(s)' orders if they would like to see them.
Normally, the typical wall-flower would fold up under examination like this. The typical pussy would cry for forgiveness. Not me baby. I told them I would get them doctors orders and listen to their proposal. Not much else. As I mentioned, the two HR ladies are very nice. I like them, and I think they like me. I think they were satisfied they addressed the issue.
The real objective was to play tit for tat. Gaddafi believes I nicked his darling's reputation in front of the HR department yesterday, so he felt it necessary to nick my reputation in front of the HR department today. This is the rule of equivalent retaliation.
Lame, lame, lame.
Anytime you want to do pistols at 10 paces let me know. Let's settle this like a couple of men. I would prefer to shoot it out with your girlfriend. This would be much more fun.
He may also be goading me to hurry up and leave the company, but I am not entirely sure about that. I am certain he knows of my plans. I know he reads this blog as a part of his policy of general surveillance. I am also a loud guy when I want to be.
There are still rumors afoot that he does not want to loose anyone in the programming department. Rumor has it that we are short handed, although I am not sure why people say this. Rumor also has it that we will be firing one of our programmers, who is not me, very soon. Too much sleeping on the job.
I guess it is worse to sleep at work that go for lunchtime workout.
'Tis a shame. The two Earth brothers could get along fabulously were it not for the poisonous Scorpion. She is the poison in the mix. Women usually provide the very best reasons for brother to kill brother. Women have caused many a war between tribes and nations.
I remember when I fell in love with that 413 Pisces girl. [She was my mid-life crisis girl, by the way.] My brother, who is also a Pisces, didn't like her at all. He had no use for her. He felt she was very bad news. He saw nothing but bad things in the tea leaves. He didn't dare to tell me that. He just backed off, and made himself scarce for a month or so.
It turned out that it only lasted one month. Thank God. My brother was mostly correct. He was still careful about the way he addressed the subject afterward. As delirious as I was in this condition of insanity, I would never have listened to him.
I wouldn't expect Coronal Gaddafi to listen either. As deep as he is in the madness, he would never listen to reason, no matter how factual or logical. As Socrates says, love is a very grave form of insanity. Modern psychologists agree. People do take leave of their senses when in this irrational state.
I gotta leave, Coronal. I hate your girlfriend... real bad. That means there ain't room in this company for the three of us.
I'm warning you: One of these days that woman is going to absolutely destroy you. It won't be me. It's going to be her.
