The Loch Ness Asshole

So I had a really poopy day yesterday. I was in the worst mood from start to (almost) finish.

Regardless of how many times I am unpleasantly reminded, I still cannot help but become disgusted and morose at how some people have chosen to act, to exist within society.

My company has this client who is a notorious asshole. Everyone thinks he's an asshole, even my boss. I've never had to deal with him personally, but I've heard stories. Up until yesterday, as far as I was concerned he was like some mythic asshole, the Loch Ness Monster of Assholes or something. The Loch Ness Asshole. Heard about only through lore and legend, most of it probably apocryphal.

Phone rings. Since T hasn't been at work for the last two days (more on this in another post), we all have to answer it. So I do.

Me: "Good afternoon...H.M. Witt?"
LNAH: "Is MATT [my boss and the owner] there?"
Me: "No, I'm sorry he's out of t..."
LNAH: "Is there another WITT there?"
Me: "Uh, no, I'm sorry but perh..."
LNAH: "Well, who do I have to talk to do get something DONE around here?"
Me: "Uh, well, that depends on what you need. Perhaps I can help you?"

Continuing to bark at me, I find out that it's him: The Loch Ness Asshole. He proceeds to tell me that we were given the approval to install a certain sign for him LAST WEEK and it's STILL not up yet. I ask him for the address and look it up.

Me: "Well, actually, the order went in Monday at 8:09 AM and I believe that it will be installed tomorrow [Wednesday]."
LNAH: "No, NO! That is INCORRECT! You were given the approval LAST WEEK! LAURA! [his assistant, who I can only assume subsists on a diet of appletinis, cocaine, and reduced fat Triscuits] When did you send at approval to Witt?"
**indisinct feminine mumbling in background**
LNAH: "Friday! Friday at 3:53 PM!"
Me: "Oh, OK. Well, our shop closes at 3:30 PM, so I didn't get the order into the shop until first
thing Monday morning."
LNAH: "Did we KNOW that the shop closes at 3:30 PM?!?"
Me, non-plussed: "Uh, I...don't...know...but I'm sure the sign will be installed tomorrow and I will forward completion photos as soon as it's done."
LNAH, suddenly and randomly sane: "Thanks very much. 'Preciate it" **click**


Once a long time ago, at least a year, I was flipping channels and inexplicably stopped for not more than 10 seconds on the E! channel, on which they were showing a commerical for that show "Dr. 90210," which I guess is a reality show about plastic surgeons in Beverly Hills. Anyway, this particular commercial featured a young, handsome doctor: first in his office, thoughtfully cupping a blonde woman's balloonish breasts and apparently dolling out his professional advice to have them rendered MORE (or maybe less, but I doubt it) balloonish, then out with his "bros" on the town, a-drinkin' and a-carousin'.

He turns to the camera amidst the cigars and striped shirts and booze and music and proclaims, "You know, you hear all the time how people want to come back reincarnated as a bird or Gandhi or something stupid like that after they die. Well, you know what? I just want to come back reincarnated as ME."

When I bear witness or am directly involved in situations like the above, I first get angry. Then, I get angry at allowing these dickheads to make me angry. After the anger has subsided, I get sad.

Sad that our society considers these people "successful." Both Dr. 9021Douche and The Loch Ness Asshole are probably millionaires. They probably drive around in awesome cars and listen to awesome music on their awesome car stereos wearing their awesome sunglasses. They probably get awesome chicks (or at least cheat on their not-so-awesome-anymore wives with awesome chicks) and eat awesome meals out at awesome restaurants every awesome night.

How a person chooses to go on with their lives treating other people like dogshit and/or not being able to see outside of themselves is totally beyond me. Don't get me wrong: I am a pretty self-centered person, but I know who I am. At least I TRY to see the world beyond the borders of my mental self. At least I understand why it's "good" to attempt to do such a thing. These types of people, however, are essentially REWARDED for not having any such desires or insights.

I just hope I can convince my kid that it just shouldn't be done and doesn't have to be that way, that you don't have to shit on people or think you're somehow greater than fucking Gandhi because you grab tits all day in order to be considered--by both self and society--successful. My wife says that these guys are probably really unhappy and "what goes around, comes around."

I don't care if they're unhappy or not. They probably don't even understand the concept of unhappiness, at least in terms of how it applies to them.

But I guess I have to believe that The Wheel does turn. For all of us.