even angela lansbury couldn't solve this one
Good news! Val has officially thrown in the towel. After much prayer and offerings of dried mango (the best!) at the alter of pagan gods from me, she gave her notice last week. She came over to my cube yesterday to ask if I recalled the name of a temp who had worked for her once. This temp had thick acrylic nails and heavy hands which when combined, made typing sound like a two machine guns talking to each other. You could hear it down the hall. Some of my coworkers called her "The Punisher"; I called her "Gregory Hines." Val didn't want to inflict her upon us while she was gone. Gone where, I asked. Gone away, she replied. She informed me that she is going to go home to be with her family and that she's "had it with this place!" Duuuuude, now THEY can deal with Val and her black sunshine. My enthusiasm for her departure has been sky high. I naturally assumed that the time between now and her turning in her security clearance would be a cakewalk. But no, such calm waters do not go unstirred in Val's ocean. She's going out with a bang!
By the grace of the TV gods, a copy of the "Murder She Wrote" Season 3 DVD was sent to my boss this morning. He came out of his office with a wry smile and said "I'm going to leave this on the up-for-grabs table." There is a table in our hallway upon which the pack rats in our office discard unwanted office crap every now and again. Sometimes it's a letter rack, sometimes it's a minimally amusing coffee mug that pokes fun of office drudgery; "World's Greatest Secretary," "I'm only happy during Happy Hour," you get the picture. To reach this cornucopia of tables, my boss had to walk past Val's cube.
"Hey, maybe Val would want it," I suggested. Val's older, has grandkids and seems like someone who might enjoy the wacky adventures of one Angela Lansbury on a balmy evening at home.
"Going...going...Val, do you want a copy of the Murder She Wrote DVD," my boss teased as he strolled by Val's cube.
And then came the sarcastic tidal wave.
"Uh, no thanks," she started graciously, "Maybe that's something my MOTHER would have wanted. It's not something I want to be associated with, thank you very much."
What the fuck? Her tone dripped with aggravation. Maybe she didn't realize that between graduating from high school and working here, she somehow got married, had two children who also had two children which makes her of that Murder she watches ilk.
"I'm sorry Val, I didn't mean to offend you," I called out over my cube.
And then Val must have thought that I walked away because she then said "Well, seems par for the course around here."
Que? My boss shot me a "holy shit" look as he went back into his office. I was seriously confused. I've never insulted Val, I've never said a mean word to her. I thought Murder She Wrote came out in the 80s and appealed to older ladies. Val is an older lady, she has eyes with which to watch television, why would she be so averse to it? Val needs an amusing coffee cup. Maybe a pretty one that reads "9 to 5 Victim".
"I'm really sorry, Val," I finished. And I left it at that.
Presently, Val is on the phone with someone who seems to need her counseling. "You're not equipped to deal with that. You don't know what a psychopath he is." They made a quick segue to Terry Bradshaw and Kathy Bates in "Failure to Launch" but have somehow found their way back to the psychopath. I can't say that I will miss her marathon noontime conversations with any one of a myriad of dysfunctional family members. Her ignorantly disgusted "mm hmmm"s will no longer ring in my ears. I cannot wait to be rid of her foul mouth, the vocabulary and the deathly malevolence with which she uses them. Utterly shameful. Grandmothers are suppose to be loving and wise with brownie baking acumen. They should not sound like infirm street people; bones to pick with everyone including inanimate objects like that sonofabitch stop sign.
Now, she's laughing about a deaf woman who was killed by a train. She says it's sick that she finds it so funny and that may God forgive her. Yes, I think God might be the only one who can appreciate Val.
By the grace of the TV gods, a copy of the "Murder She Wrote" Season 3 DVD was sent to my boss this morning. He came out of his office with a wry smile and said "I'm going to leave this on the up-for-grabs table." There is a table in our hallway upon which the pack rats in our office discard unwanted office crap every now and again. Sometimes it's a letter rack, sometimes it's a minimally amusing coffee mug that pokes fun of office drudgery; "World's Greatest Secretary," "I'm only happy during Happy Hour," you get the picture. To reach this cornucopia of tables, my boss had to walk past Val's cube.
"Hey, maybe Val would want it," I suggested. Val's older, has grandkids and seems like someone who might enjoy the wacky adventures of one Angela Lansbury on a balmy evening at home.
"Going...going...Val, do you want a copy of the Murder She Wrote DVD," my boss teased as he strolled by Val's cube.
And then came the sarcastic tidal wave.
"Uh, no thanks," she started graciously, "Maybe that's something my MOTHER would have wanted. It's not something I want to be associated with, thank you very much."
What the fuck? Her tone dripped with aggravation. Maybe she didn't realize that between graduating from high school and working here, she somehow got married, had two children who also had two children which makes her of that Murder she watches ilk.
"I'm sorry Val, I didn't mean to offend you," I called out over my cube.
And then Val must have thought that I walked away because she then said "Well, seems par for the course around here."
Que? My boss shot me a "holy shit" look as he went back into his office. I was seriously confused. I've never insulted Val, I've never said a mean word to her. I thought Murder She Wrote came out in the 80s and appealed to older ladies. Val is an older lady, she has eyes with which to watch television, why would she be so averse to it? Val needs an amusing coffee cup. Maybe a pretty one that reads "9 to 5 Victim".
"I'm really sorry, Val," I finished. And I left it at that.
Presently, Val is on the phone with someone who seems to need her counseling. "You're not equipped to deal with that. You don't know what a psychopath he is." They made a quick segue to Terry Bradshaw and Kathy Bates in "Failure to Launch" but have somehow found their way back to the psychopath. I can't say that I will miss her marathon noontime conversations with any one of a myriad of dysfunctional family members. Her ignorantly disgusted "mm hmmm"s will no longer ring in my ears. I cannot wait to be rid of her foul mouth, the vocabulary and the deathly malevolence with which she uses them. Utterly shameful. Grandmothers are suppose to be loving and wise with brownie baking acumen. They should not sound like infirm street people; bones to pick with everyone including inanimate objects like that sonofabitch stop sign.
Now, she's laughing about a deaf woman who was killed by a train. She says it's sick that she finds it so funny and that may God forgive her. Yes, I think God might be the only one who can appreciate Val.
posted by Katie at 1:25 PM
3 Comments:
I read about that. The deaf woman also happened to be Miss Deaf Texas, and was preparing for the Miss Deaf America beauty pageant. I shed silent tears for her.
val is a pathetic human being. let's both keep miss deaf texas' families in our thoughts.
I like Gerald.
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