My own first enemy
It was, I think, 1998. His name was Rob Woodruff.
This was a new thing. I had never disliked anyone enough to actually hate them before Rob. Even since, I could probably count on one hand the people I actually wish ill will upon. Another manager at Suncoast. I forget her name now... so the feeling is quite weaker. Then, likely, two people who live in Oklahoma. Though not any of their family or friends.
And that's probably it.
Rob earned this special distinction by being the laziest, stupidest and most irritating person I've ever met. He was hired after an extensive search in Bill Clinton's America led to a long-term lack of qualified individuals who were willing to work 50 hours for 40 hours pay.
Rob was a fresh return missionary who could be the most charming person you'd ever met for 30 minutes. After that, you'd want to kill him.
He was relentless in his pursuit of a wife. Although it was clear he would have done better, and been happier, finding a husband. But his repression and confusion wasn't the problem.
Imagine Michael Scott without any of the likeable qualities. Asking the same questions over and over. Watching Men In Black over and over and over again. Everyday. (Literally.) He'd do nothing in the store for 45-50 hours a week. Except stand at the front counter, watch Men In Black and make even our most loyal customers angry.
At a basic level, the real issue was a disrespect for other people. I wouldn't learn words like Solipsism until college. (Although I did already know monomania, socipathy and arrogant. Arrogant especially is pretty common.)
But I knew I hated him. Even if I didn't get that it because he had no regard for other people. How they were just obstacles in his drive to prove something that he'd never understand why he'd want to prove.
And it was long before I used the ability to wonder what his parents must have been like. To ask whether he had siblings or was an only child. Hometown. Goals. Anything like that. Anything that would have made it harder to wish ill will on him. That would have made him a character. Or, at least, a characterization.
Which is, perhaps, why I can count on one hand the people I wish ill will upon. One, whose name I can't remember. And two, to whom the feeling is fading.
Unfortunately?
This was a new thing. I had never disliked anyone enough to actually hate them before Rob. Even since, I could probably count on one hand the people I actually wish ill will upon. Another manager at Suncoast. I forget her name now... so the feeling is quite weaker. Then, likely, two people who live in Oklahoma. Though not any of their family or friends.
And that's probably it.
Rob earned this special distinction by being the laziest, stupidest and most irritating person I've ever met. He was hired after an extensive search in Bill Clinton's America led to a long-term lack of qualified individuals who were willing to work 50 hours for 40 hours pay.
Rob was a fresh return missionary who could be the most charming person you'd ever met for 30 minutes. After that, you'd want to kill him.
He was relentless in his pursuit of a wife. Although it was clear he would have done better, and been happier, finding a husband. But his repression and confusion wasn't the problem.
Imagine Michael Scott without any of the likeable qualities. Asking the same questions over and over. Watching Men In Black over and over and over again. Everyday. (Literally.) He'd do nothing in the store for 45-50 hours a week. Except stand at the front counter, watch Men In Black and make even our most loyal customers angry.
At a basic level, the real issue was a disrespect for other people. I wouldn't learn words like Solipsism until college. (Although I did already know monomania, socipathy and arrogant. Arrogant especially is pretty common.)
But I knew I hated him. Even if I didn't get that it because he had no regard for other people. How they were just obstacles in his drive to prove something that he'd never understand why he'd want to prove.
And it was long before I used the ability to wonder what his parents must have been like. To ask whether he had siblings or was an only child. Hometown. Goals. Anything like that. Anything that would have made it harder to wish ill will on him. That would have made him a character. Or, at least, a characterization.
Which is, perhaps, why I can count on one hand the people I wish ill will upon. One, whose name I can't remember. And two, to whom the feeling is fading.
Unfortunately?
Labels: Mark
posted by M S Martinez at 11/15/2008 09:49:00 PM
3 Comments:
What on earth made you think of this subject to write about? On such a bright sunny weekend to speak of those irritants of society. Must not have had someone to play Guitar Hero with.
I must ask why is the feeling fading? You must keep it alive and strong!
This is a tirade. What caused this interesting essay on hate and one of its forms?
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