Her Fuckin' Precious Paper Plate

OK, so I blog posted about seeing rancor in the workplace.  Although I started nothing from this -- and I usually don't -- I must confess that I have been confronted with rancor in the workplace, too.

And it was some bullshit, too.  The day before this blowup, I went in to work.  Since I bought coffee, what I usually do is pour some into my thermos so it'll remain hot throughout the day.  So I needed to go into the break room where, unfortunately, a bunch of people from a department/shift just started their break.  So I waited to get a knife (to stir the coffee before I pour) and a towel (in case I spill while pouring) while everybody else was at the sink.  Don't worry, I was wearing a mask.

So all the riff-raff cleared.  But, there was one worker, who has Farrah Fawcett hair and Hillary Clinton (no offense meant ... to Hillary Clinton) skin, kind of looking at me.  And I looked at her.  And she goes, "Don't you take my paper plate!" and she marches up, reaches into the toaster, and takes out, I think, her English muffins.

Don't take your paper plate?!  Bitch, I'm trying to start my day here, and you're complaining I'm trying to take your paper plate?!  Fuckin' Christ, there are millions of them in the cabinet.  Next time I see her and her fucking plate I should rip it in half and throw it at her.  I can't with this idiot, really. ...