You’re damned if you do, and you’re damned if you don’t. I’m coming to terms with the fact that when a person can be described as a “sandwich short of a picnic basket”, there is nothing really you can say to reason with them.
I’m lucky enough to work at a lovely seaside hotel during summer season. I’m lucky to be paid very well to work at the front desk. After two years of doing this job, I’ve come to realize why the owner pays so well: because I have to work with a psychopath who whines like a little baby over every little thing. He has to help with room service? “WAH!! I have to shine the spoons in the breakfast room!” It’s the world against him. It’s us against him. Of course he knows how to do EVERYTHING perfectly. He can do no wrong in his mind. We are but fools running around and shaming him.
What he reminds me of is that old Seinfeld episode – “The Understudy.” He is Jerry’s girlfriend, the understudy to Bette Midler in Rochelle, Rochelle. Crying over every little thing. Her frankfurter falls out of the hot dog bun and the tears turn on: “Oh my god, my frankfurter. It was so good, why? Why did it have to fall?” Because you effing suck, that’s why.
I could sneak some sort of downer medication in his coffee to mellow him out. But what I’d really like to do is tie him to a chair and have a nice face-punching session with him. That’ll give him something to cry about. That’s a dream worth dreaming…