The Scaaaaary Date

There’s one prospect that doesn’t even make it out of the farm league. We exchange phone numbers online and set up a time for me to call her. The conversation begins with the usual pleasantries and then she dives right into kvetching about her co-workers, her boss, her company, and her job in general, which apparently she hates because everyone she works with is an asshole.

The venom is spewing near hurricane force after about 20 seconds and shows no sign of stopping. In fact, she’s practically haemorrhaging bile. Finally she pauses for some air intake and I realize I’m supposed to say something. So I reply with a vague kind of acknowledgement that indeed, work can be a challenge sometimes. I add a brief personal observation about the place where I work. Before I can finish the sentence, she interrupts with this snappy rejoinder: “Oh well, that’s life. Whatcha gonna do…Lah-de-dah, lah-de-dah.”

The alarm bells aren’t just ringing, they are in system overdrive. Red flags bursting out all over like poppies on Remembrance Day. Yep, I think we’re talking serious personality disorder here. And I’m not going to speculate about which one -- or how many of them -- may be at play. I do what any sane person would do. I thank Nasty Nelly for her time and hang up.