Don’t Bite The Hand That Shreds You

(At the school where I teach, there’s a new teacher who seems to have a habit of talking down to people: students, custodians, and most notably, the school secretary. One day, the new teacher storms in and slams a paper down on the secretary’s desk.)

Teacher: “Listen, you lazy b****! This is the third work order I’ve put in about a broken desk. It’s been two weeks. Why isn’t it fixed?”

Secretary: “I just file the paperwork. You’d have to talk to the custodians.”

Teacher: “I don’t to talk to a dumba** janitor! I shouldn’t have to! I went to college!”

Secretary: “You’ll have to take it up with [Custodian].”

Teacher: “Did you just talk back to me?! I can have you fired for that! I’m a teacher; you’re just a secretary. You’re here to serve me!” *storms out*

Me: *to the secretary* “Wow, did that really just happen?”

Secretary: “Yep. He’s cussed me out twice this year already.”

(I watch as she calmly picks up his work order and slides it into the shredder.)

Secretary: “I have no idea why they haven’t fixed that desk yet.”