Andare, Partire, Tornare


"Get a good laywer" - some of the most chilling words you can ever hear

Today would have gone a lot better if I hadn't had an object lesson in this particular truth: people suck. People really do suck. Mind you, most people I meet at my Saturday job are fairly nice, willing to put up with the occasionaly overscheduling that results in their dog being groomed later than we promised, or cheerfully complementary about how nice their pet looks after a bath and brushing. But today, I got caught in the path of a man determined to make as big a stink as possible, and I was only caught in it because I was the one who happened to bathe his dog.

Said dog was a shar-pei, not my favorite breed at any time, because the last time I had to handle one, I got hives. No other dog ever did that to me - it was either their prickly hair, or that particular dog had been rolling in something that my skin did not like. Anyway, the dog flipped out in his kennel and tore a nail out. The owner, upon arriving in haste and aggravation, told me that it was a nice story but he didn't believe a word of it, and that I had better get a good lawyer. Nice. So apparently, I spent my time today not bathing dogs, but pulling their toenails out with pliers in the back room. The guy wasn't content to ream me and the manager out in private, but rather chose to stage it all in the middle of the cat adoption group, who were trying to pack up for the night. He was obviously used to steamrollering over everybody and getting what he wanted, and what he wanted was somebody's head. Thankfully, between my manager and myself, we prevented that from happening - my manager didn't even think about sacrificing me to the guy, and I was able to keep my cool enough to keep from either bursting into tears or yelling at the guy for calling me a liar to my face.

I am a fundamentally goody-two-shoes type of person. Getting a speeding ticket makes me feel as guilty as if I had been caught running moonshine over the West Virginny border. I hate being threatened, and I don't deal with it very well at all - instead of getting a clearing rush of adrenaline to defend myself, I get a cramped stomach and an urge to be very, very meek. In other words, flight instead of fight rules me. So obviously, I was a nervous wreck for the rest of the day, wondering if he really would sue. I don't truly think he will, and even if he does I highly doubt that I would personally be the target of his lawsuit (especially if he's the mercenary type, when obviously I can't have all that much money to my name if I'm working as a dog bather) but I can't help letting the "what-if" scenarios dominate my brain. I'm not dwelling on it now, but it was a rough few hours there.

I also feel crummy because it has ruined my enjoyment in what was supposed to be a simple, relatively mindless job. At least I don't have to deal with any nagging pangs of guilt, since I didn't fucking do anything to the dog, but that man and his nastiness and poison wrecked my day and has disturbed the simple enjoyment of my job - taking a dirty dog and making it clean.

8:59 p.m. - 2003-02-08


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