I’ve been informed today that the job I’ve been staffing for six fucking months, packed with rave reviews, shining reports, and an inbox full of thank-you-soooo-much letters “has been filled by a more qualified applicant”. Yeah, I know the applicant, the general opinion of anyone who’s had the misfortune of working with her would describe her along the lines of a broken down cancer of an employee, full of bile and attitude, and short on results. She’s vain, petty, and the consummate image of the sneaky, backstabbing fat kid you remember from the schoolyard. If there’s a cookie to be stolen, or a reputation to be ruined with a rumor, she’s on it 5 minutes ago. She has none of the qualifications that match the position, is barely computer literate, and can’t open an Excel file without calling I.T.

She is, however, in the union.

Yep, that’s it. Barely qualified. Another broken-down ape who just got tired of other people refusing to do her work for her in one place has decided that she will take her 90 minute lunch break, her two official union breaks and her six 15-minute smoke breaks elsewhere, and FUCK whoever’s in that chair now – ‘cause she’s union, and as far as the work goes, she’ll get to it when she gets to it.

Seriously, if this is the worker’s paradise you’ve envisioned since your sociology days, you’re out of your fucking mind. —Temptacular Bullshit