Stop Me Before I Vote Again

Cubicle farms breed managers with really tormented neuroses. I've worked for a few outside their corporate environment. They make moral issues out of the strangest things, like services they want performed, and they have great difficulty communicating what they want in clear language. They sidle up to it with questions. They hint at the morality. They produce gratuitous, clearly bogus "narratives". They manipulate and express exasperation. Their children do the same thing to them. There are tears and scenes when that happens. They perform this, and it is a performance, it in front of their employees.

The worst part is the intimate, very personal confidence that appears intended to make the performer sympathetic. The last time I was dragged into one of the scenes, I was treated to an excruciating tale of a child's potty misfortunes—with preciously cute euphemisms* and profuse, pointless apologies. I'm fairly sure it was intended to send me off to fetch cleaning equipment. But I don't know. I'll never know either, thank God.

*Whenever I hear of "widdle piddle", I release the safety catch of my Browning.