Adina's Cinco de Septa Fiesta

If my job continues to suck the life out of me, I’m going to continue posting three times in two days. I will, at least, be typing, and for some reason my boss thinks typing = work. My job has very little to do with typing.

Anyway, the woman who is pretty much my boss makes me more angry every day because of her complete lack of respect for humans, language and life. Today, for the third time, I heard her tell a different group of Indian students that she just can’t pronounce any of “your” names. Then she told them that she doesn’t even try because the names are just too difficult. She told (for the third time) the story of her son-in-law (or something) who married an Indian woman named Sapna whom her whole family called “Septa” because they didn’t care to learn her name. She was very proud of herself for being the first to say it correctly. We’re in a sales-related field!! I’m kind to people because names are important, and humans deserve the respect of an attempt at their names. She should at least make this effort because it’s good sales practice. She doesn’t care.

Her right hand man, our head handyman who can fix ANYTHING, is Puerto Rican. When he came into work Monday morning discussing what’s going on with Puerto Rican politics and government, she didn’t want to hear it. “They’re all crazy.” When he tells us about his daughter’s Quince Años (which is coming up soon, and he’s very excited about it), she constantly acts as if she has no idea what he’s saying. Then she says, “Oh, her sweet sixteen!!”
“She’s turning fifteen.”
“Sandie, it’s a fifteenth birthday party.”
“Well she’s in America now. It’s a sweet sixteen.”
“She’s turning fifteen though.”

She just spent ten minutes on the phone with a student named Andrea, the entire time calling her “Adina.” ADINA?!?! WHAT THE FUCK?!?!

As a Post Script: I just talked to a friend on the phone and found that he had to inform his co-worker (a thirty-year-old mother of three) what “Cinco de Mayo” means. She had no idea.