Gross

I worked with this woman for about a year or so, about four or five years back. She was such an asshole, but she wasn't mean, no, she had this misguided arrogance thing going on that was just really disturbing. She lived in Macomb County, which, I think pretty much says it all. So, she quits her job with us to go work for a smaller, shittier company and in her wake, I discover weeks later, she left behind a notebook in her desk. This may have been intentional, I thought at first, but its contents led me to believe otherwise.

It was a typical journalist’s pad, filled with notes and quotes from meetings and interviews. But in it, I discovered a page with exact dates and times highlighted chronicling things apparently I was doing that she found somehow objectionable, like a little narc’s journal she would later present to a supervisor in some capacity. Most, well, ALL of it was harmless shit like “walked back from bathroom, he stared me down glaring the entire time.” What the fuck is that? So, making eye contact becomes a “glare,” which, by definition, has some sort of threatening tone? And this one, “Tuesday 7/31, 10 a.m., he talking said “Now, I’ve seen it all,” and looked at me.” Wow, man, I better be removed from the building because THAT is some serious shit. I mean, I don’t know how this poor thing concentrated on her work with the circus of intimidation looming over her like that. Jeez, what a trooper.

This is the kind of shit I’m talking about. Because she used certain terms and believes it to be true, she would later expect someone else to believe it is also true. And if that’s the case, what would stop her, or anyone, from saying anything they want themselves to believe? If she went to my boss with this nonsense, and he believed her, what could be next? “JH tried to rape me in the parking lot,” I would imagine, could suddenly become a very scary allegation against my character. People are fucked up, and this broad is their pied piper. Really, I never met anyone so quite into themselves as she was and this fucking notebook only proves my original opinion of her.

But lo, The Kid wins out in the end here. While she detailed a short litany of alleged workplace wrongdoings in her notebook, she did take the time for a little personal expression. She left behind a small page of poetry. Yes, that’s right, that all-too-personal plunge into the soul that is poetry. So, beloved readers of the Chicken, I give to you the bland and punchless poems one really dumb bitch. It was untitled, so I took care of that little detail for her.

My Lap, It Smells Like Roofing Tar
Introspection, collection
of thoughts
Whats (sic) past is past but
Maybe not
Lingering on the edges
Bright (unreadable word), scent, sounds
I have entered a new day
But brought the others along
What has dwindled to nothing
I wanted to stay?
No
What still haunts me & won’t go away …

Now, THAT is some deep poetry. She pens that drivel, and I’M the asshole?