workingWorking with woman is well, unpleasant. Working with an older woman- unbearable. I am a teller at a local community bank and in all my life I have never fully appreciated P.M.S. quite like I do today. P.M.S. leaves you with options, well three anyway- Pamprin, Midol, or Booze. Menopause, however, is malignant- growing worse and spreading like a cancer until it effects everyone around you.
You see, last night I had fully intented to take down my Christmas tree in order to haul it away to its death. However, this required a certain amount of energy, and such an amount is lacking after dealing with bank customers (not to mention the employees) for eight hours. So I got creative, and traveled down to my local Fry's food and drug store, and went in search of energy. My original thought was to get really strong coffee, but then I headed towards the pharamacy instead.
Coffee is good, but I figured if I could get the caffiene without the frequent bathroom trips, I'd get more accomplished- so I grabbed some No-Doz and headed on my way. I read the instructions on the back of the the bottle, which listed each tablet as about 1 cup of coffee. So I took 3 pills...which was a very bad idea.
I felt cold, jittery, and sweaty all night long. Not to mention the fact that I was nauseous the entire night, so climbing up a ladder to undecorate the tree was out of the question. I didn't sleep at all the entire night, and it was miserable. Not to mention the fact that when i eventually crawled out of bed this morning, there was a familiar aching in my lower abdomen. I was beginning to get cramps, whish was the surest sign that the worst week out of the month was about to unfold.
After my night of agony, going to work was just another twist of fate's cruel knife. As soon as I clocked in it was obvious that I was already behind. There were mumblings about an emergency teller meeting, a.s.a.p. Great, I had thought to myself, how could this morning possibly get any worse? What a stupid way to set yourself up...The meeting outlined a few changes in procedure- meaning that from now on during certain transactions each teller will be required to operate in pairs. Our partners were assigned to us. Read: Horrifying 
Before I go any farther with this tale of pain and suffering, let me tell you a little bit about Brenda, my most hated co-worker. First let me tell you that she is old, ancient really. She's probably about 4 feet and 10 inches tall, and about the same size across- although I must give her credit now that she's on a diet (meaning she now only carries about 20lbs. of junk food around in her purse). Brenda is a frightening cross between UmpaLumpa and Elf. She somehow inherited the orange tint, downward pointed nose, and oddly shaped ears... 
All of this could be forgiven if she weren't such an all around bitch. Brenda is bossy, and loud about it too. She has no sense of tactfulness whatsoever. It doesn't matter of you're helping a customer, having a conversation with a supervisor, or standing in the bathroom while waiting for a stall, Brenda will go out of her way to put her lousy ten dollars in. 
It isn't even as if Brenda is that steller a teller, she makes just as many mistakes as the rest of us, however "seasoned"
she no doubt is.
There's not only the bossy disposition, but Brenda has this habit of making things up about her co-workers. I personally believe that she may do this to come off as more knowledgable to our bosses, but she could just be vindictive as hell, in fact knowing Brenda- that's probably the case. The most recent time she's been caught trying this act of obnoxiousness was earliar this week.
I was at the water dispenser when I overheard Brenda talking with the teller supervisor. I distinctly heard Brenda say to the man, "Micah outright flirts with all our male customers, in fact many of the married ones won't even visit her teller station- they just wait for one of the more professional employees." I didn't even have to dignify that ugliness with a response, because my boss sure didn't...he walked away laughing. Kudos to him!
Anyway, Brenda is a monster, and as my supervisor Paul read off the partners he had chosen to work together, a cold lump began to form in my gut. As names were called and each pair smiled at eachother (albiet in shared relief they didn't get placed with the Darkness herself) I realized there only 4 women left. Paul finally made eye contact with me and as he read the next set of names, guilt filled his eyes and flushed his cheeks. I had been placed with Brenda.
For the next two hours, as the pairs of co-workers trained on working together with differant kings of transactions, I silently wished Paul a bad case of diarrhea and wished for myself a big case of
Corona. I dared not step too close to Brenda for fear I would want to wrap my hands around her fat swaddled neck and squeeze until her tongue turned purple and fell out. Needless to say, my own tongue was sore from alternately nawing off my own sharp retorts, and of course cursing Paul.
In the two hours I was trapped with that woman, I developed a sense of thankfullness. Suddenly I realized that no woman could possibly be that evil on her own accord. Then Brenda began fanning herself and griping about the change. And so it all made sense, well not all of it, but some- it was menopause. Menopause, for which there is no easy fix. Menopause from which no woman can really escape, not like P.M.S. that for now I can get away from by either popping pain relievers, antinflammitories, and getting schnokered.
So in in a very small way, for a very brief moment, I sympathized for Brenda the UmpaElf- but I didn't offer to grab her a cool water on my way to the kitchen- everyone has limits.
