Saturday, May 21, 2011

The Annals of Passive Aggressiveness

From the 6th Floor of Wake Med

I hate being yelled at. I hate strangers bossing me around. Standing in an elevator by the controls is an open invitation for asshole strangers to bark orders at you to hold the elevator. God forbid if you don’t do their bidding and hold the elevator for them. If they make it on after you didn’t try to keep the door open, the assholes give you a look like you stole something from their yard! I found a way to work around that by strategically positioning myself inside the elevator.

I stumbled upon this strategy around 6 years ago when my dad was in the hospital for 5 weeks straight. He had congestive heart failure and eventually a sextuple heart bypass. He came close to dying. The nurses and doctors would never come out and say “He’s going to kick the bucket.” Instead they say things like “I’m really worried about him.” I went to visit him on every day he was at Wake Med. It was a stressful month and I came to hate the place because of the stress.

Part of the annoying experience at the hospital involved waiting for the elevators. It took forever. When one finally showed up, someone would demand that I “Hold the elevator for him.” Some would give a fake and forced smile. Others would just scowl at me as they sauntered their dumb asses into the elevator.

One day, I had a stroke of brilliance hit me. After I entered the elevator, I thought “Why sit by the controls and wait there like an idiot for some dipshit to snap orders at me?” No. Instead, I would press the floor where I had to go, step all the way back to the elevator, lean against the back and look down at the floor. It was amazing how easy it was for me to ignore those bossy son-of-a-bitches! No longer was I in control of the panel. They couldn’t blame me if they didn’t make the ride.

I know this makes me a poor humanitarian. I know I can be a jerk. But the “back of the elevator” strategy brought pleasure to my devious mind in an otherwise tumultuous phase of my life.

That is my story about a moment of passive aggressiveness in my life.

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