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I should have written this a bit sooner but hey: I don't know if… - The tissue of the Tears of Zorro [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]

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[Oct. 25th, 2006|11:55 pm]
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I should have written this a bit sooner but hey:

I don't know if everyone knows, but for a while I worked for the Dublin Motor Tax Office. The first year it was a summer job. Then college hit, then I failed, and had to turn my second summer job into a fulltime job, and move in with Aisling. This wasn't such a good idea (the failing and turning it into a longterm job). One of the reasons it wasn't so good was my Boss, Mary. My, how I loathed her. She had a habit of snorting to clear her nose, and you could hear her doing it from the other side of the building (open plan office). And her voice was a very unholy mix of Clare and Limerick accent that sounded like someone trying to sharpen a 50p piece on a plate of glass, and a charming personality to match. The only redeeming feature was that her baldness patches made for shiny bits on her head. (Story behind that comment was I was going to a Buddhist group with Aisling at the time, and her cousin asked why I was in a bad mood, and I ranted about this boss, and he said "Surely, there must be SOMETHING positive about her?", what with us doing meditations to cultivate love and forgiveness and whatnot. My reply was "The shiny bald spots make her head look pretty."... he gave up on that tack soon after)

I was also bullied a bit... and it didn't help that I was starting to come in late. By January, she was moved to another section - I've no idea why, but people just wanted to move her around (actually, come to think of it, I do have a good idea: it was because our cubicles were right beside the Grade 7s cubicles, and they weren't too fond of her). When she left she said how sad she was to be leaving us. I never really believed her. She went to the Post Room.

Work was actually getting pretty thin, and because I was only a temp, they never gave me the authority to sign documents for court (meaning I always had to have my work double checked - so I was only really good for phone work in that section, given that all our interaction was with solicitors and gardai), so I was moved about near the end, doing whatever work came handy (sorting tax forms for scanning, or laminating driver licences). On my last day, I ended up in the Post Room... and Mary told me just told me "what a pleasure it was working with ye", again, I never believed a word of it. I was polite to her though. Anyway, that was me leaving the motor tax office.

Long story short: I hated that woman. She made my working life a living hell... although other bosses helped with that too. It gave me a taste of what a sucky job with no job security is really like. It motivated me to get a proper degree.

Anyway, a few weeks back, I was at the An Fainne moot. Twas cool, and very enjoyable, and we went for pints after in the bar in the Teacher's Club. Who did I see except Mary? She was actually looking quite well, in a suit, having a drink with friends and the like. So, as she was leaving, I went up and just asked if she was actually Mary, and it turned out she was. She seems a lot nicer than I remember her, and maybe it was because she'd been drinking and amongst company she liked (and I think she may be retired by now), but she seemed in really good form. It was actually good to see her. If nothing else it took the sting out of the memories of her.

Wow, just thinking of that place makes my lungs feel like clogging (it was a VERY dusty place - so many paper records on file, the dust just breeds). But yeah, that little bite is removed.

Just thought I'd share.