We all know at least one. Maybe you are one. (I mean that in the nicest possible way). Now, don't get all angry and indignant and fly off the handle; there are hypocrites who end up doing society a service. Zipping your lip in any of a myriad of situations will usually end up netting you some Brownie Points, but keep in mind that's really only a passive-aggressive form of it.

I'm thinking more about the saleslady with commission on her mind who tells you no, that turtleneck looks fine on people with no neck to speak of. It accentuates the face, she says. Bullshit. She knew full well it was a beautiful colour and you can rarely go wrong with chenille and there were two of them in your changeroom, so what could it hurt to push it a little? Well, she's going to hell for that little move, I hope she's happy.

Or, how about your co-worker? The one who tells you the company was heading down the tubes until you came along, the one who tells you to take some time out and de-stress, play that 40-minute game of Bejeweled, then scuttles off to rat you out? The one with the unsatisfactory home life, minimal fashion sense, sky-high credit card debt, an extra 40 pounds and a bad case of dandruff.

I can understand their need to lash out, to exact some small revenge upon those around them. They're pissed. I get it. Just leave me the hell alone. You're only becoming (even moreso) the hated, flaking ogre of the office this way. Seek counseling, dude. I'm not stupid; I didn't just fall off the turnip truck. I know exactly what you're doing, although I don't quite get your logic. You seem to delight in piling your work on me; if I'm turfed, who will be left to free up your days from the tedium of actual work? Trust me, I'm checking the want ads each and every day so I can get some peace from you, Loser.

You can't get away from them, I know. They're insidious. They can be found in coffee shops, office towers and construction sites the world over. The trick is identifying them. It's that beady-eyed look, the way their eyes shift from side to side, scoping out their next victim. Don't look for a paper trail, because they're not stupid, either. Their treachery takes place in the dark corners of the lunch room, or the Manger's Office long after every (sane) person has packed up and headed home to a hot dinner and the company of loved ones.

In the end, I suppose we just have to rise above it all and pity them. They will never be more than they are, which is a bit sad. Remembering the old adage, "What goes around comes around"
is also helpful in times of stress.

Not soon enough, if you ask me.

Posted at 3:11 p.m.