The Witch Tried to Kill Me...

Tinkerbell and I were walking out of the office yesterday at the same time as another one of our coworkers, who happens to live within 5 miles of both Tink and me, roughly 30 or 40 minute away from the office. Let's call the coworker Elizabeth (as in the English Queen.) Anyway, Elizabeth says "We should start carpooling, since we all live in the same area." Tinkerbell begins to comment in friendly agreement and I interrupt with "That WOULD be an idea, wouldn't it?"

So Tink and I get into my car and begin the drive home. As soon as we close the doors, I feel obligated to say "I hate that bitch." Tink giggles a little and isn't really sure what I mean, so naturally, the dishing begins.

I explain to Tink that Elizabeth is a publicity whore. "If you catch her doing something nice, or charitable, or selfless, its almost assuredly because she thinks someone is watching and wants to look good "for the camera". Its all about status with this witch." Tink says "You know, she does seem overly nice to me with no apparent reason...kinda creeps me out."

"Creepy isn't the word. 'Cold-hearted, hateful, disgrace-of-a-wench' is far more accurate." I continued. "Another coworker friend bumped into Elizabeth at Home Depot a few weeks ago, where she was looking at flowers. Instead of just talking about flowers or whatever, she found it necessary to say 'I'm not happy with what the gardener has been choosing, so I'm coming here to pick out what he will be using. Don't you know she drove by Elizabeth's house later that day and saw her husband..I'm mean the gardener planting those flowers?" Seriously, this woman thought that saying she had a gardener elevated her status or something.

Tink giggled and said "Gee, I thought you hated her cuz she tried to kill you." I had almost forgotten.

IMPORTANT NOTE: The following story is NOT suitable for those with weak stomachs:

About two years ago, in the middle of prime potlucking season, we were doing just that at the office. Being from Washington state, my life's potluck experiences all included everybody bringing their favorite storebought food item that they transferred into one of their own dishes. Since moving to Tennessee in 2001, I have VERY much enjoyed everyone's great-grandma's-cousin's-best friend's recipes. This day was no exception.

Elizabeth brought a chicken-alfredo-pasta-casseroley kinda thing. Now, chicken and pasta are two essential parts of my diet, so I was not going to pass this up. It wasn't until after my fifth plate (yeah, I said fifth, and no I'm not exaggerating), the first plate hit me. Hard. Its as if the chicken, and the eggs, and the mayo, and ANYTHING ELSE that could have gone bad in that dish had done so.

After my fifth sprint to the rest room in 20 minutes, I decided I should probably go home. I made it exactly .75 miles before stopping in the middle of the street, putting my car in park, and wretching out the open door. After 10 minutes of stopping traffic, I finally pulled it together enough to make it into a nearby Hollywood Video parking log, where I proceeded to lay down on the cool concrete for awhile.

The worst got worse. I felt the need to...well...the pasta was about to retreat from both the north AND the south, if you catch my drift...Without much more detail, the staff of Hollywood video had a late cleanup night that day, and two years later, I still can't rent a movie there.

Anywho, a friend came to pick me up from Hollywood Video and drive me to an Urgent Care facility. I was so delirious at this point that I only vaguely noticed that the nurse that was administering some kind of shot in my ass was unrealistically attractive. If I hadn't been delusional, I probably would have been embarrassed by the mess of a state that I was in. It took two weeks of five prescriptions and three checkups to get all the way over that. I have NEVER felt so terrible in my life.

So, that said. I hate Elizabeth. She has no idea that I loathe her. But I do. And when she almost got in a serious car wreck on the way home, I actually told Tink that I probably would have kept driving and laughed like a possessed clown if she had. The hateful part of that is I'm not sure that I was kidding...oy veh....