Here’s something that happened today, which seems a tad fucked up to me.

I was not originally slated to go to a management meeting. Days ago, it was requested and decided that I should attend (the topic directly affects my work and the main presenter is an independent consultant with whom I worked several years ago and essentially have a personal relationship).

No big deal, I knew everyone in a room of about 10.

The accounting chick who was responsible for handouts and the reports shown in the charts and graphs is not someone who looks at me with a feeling of warmth and fuzziness. Her look is more unguarded contempt. In fact, most of her emails for what she perceives as my accounting transgressions are molotov cocktails where everyone and anyone involved is cc’d. Her boss now calls me directly with questions.

So, oh happy meeting joy, we are gathered around an oval boardroom table. She circles the table with her pile of handouts placing them squarely in front of each participant. She places a colored packet to the woman on my left and passes behind me. Unconsciously, I slope my shoulders toward the left, expecting the drop of papers on my right. She keeps moving with no drop at the empty expanse in front of me.

She finishes her circle and says, “Oh, Dee-Rob, you’ll have to look on to your neighbor’s packet. I only have handouts…That’s it on the handouts.”

What the fuck? Are we in Junior High? I’m sorry, Dee-Rob, you have cooties and only people I think are managers are cool.