Please forgive me for being so slow to check back in on this thread. We worked long hours at the marina around Labor Day weekend to make sure plenty of beer was in stock, my car has been in the shop, my son started middle school last Tuesday, and a catfight has been brewing between me and a female coworker.
The potential catfight centers around, of all things, Sail for the Cure. My coworker, whom I will call "Ms. M," will be crew on a different boat and is not pleased that I will also be participating in the event. I try to be compassionate. She's had a difficult life, and I am guessing that her self-esteem is very low. To feel better about herself, she mainly resorts to putting other people down.
I thought of her when I recently read this tidbit about the power of compliments:
Most of our men come from environments with varying degrees of positive reinforcement. A man who grew up with very few compliments will need double the dose, and anyone who brags, boasts, or stretches the truth needs three times the praise that an ordinary person does. Remember this rule:
The more I like myself, the less I have to impress or convince you how great I am. The less I like myself, the more I have to convince people how wonderful I am. The degree to which I either like or dislike myself has a great deal to do with how much or how little praise I received as a child.
Despite a clear explanation in the Sail for the Cure brochure that this event is about teamwork and cooperation, Ms. M is quick to tell anyone within earshot that she will be in a race on September 21, as though she is a seasoned yacht racer only waiting for the next America's cup. She also wants very much to win a prize for collecting the most donations.
After asking permission of the marina owner, on Tuesday I put a can for donations on the counter of the marina store. Since my car was in the shop, I rode into work with my sister's boyfriend and arrived much earlier than usual. When Ms. M arrived, she gave me a very hateful look and asked, "What are you doing here?"
I thought to myself, "Good bloody morning to you, too." Then she removed my donation can from the counter. I was quietly firm: "[The owner] said I could put the can on the counter."
Hand on hip, she countered, "I don't agree. And I don't think it's fair. We've asked people all over this marina for donations. I guess I'll have to make my own can."
I was completely puzzled. If Ms. M has already scoured the marina for donations, why should she care if I collect small change? And since all of the money goes to charity, what does it matter?
My compassion for Ms. M is running thin these days, so even if you don't send a donation, how about just sending an envelope with a blank sheet of paper to the Krazy Bull Krew at Rocky Pointe marina? Ms. M fetches the mail, you see.
Hi, Ginny. I've missed you.
Yes, you have, Teejay, but I'm sure your aim will improve with practice.
JWs must be RIGHT. Any any cost. . . . the arguer must be RIGHT.
You're right, of course.
GINNY is it really you???? *pinches, get's bitchslapped* yup it's you!!!
Why don't you come back to Portland, Venice? We can work on teamwork and cooperation and gang up on this nasty Ms. M. She'll certainly be no match for our (ahem) collective assets.
Welcome back. When are you going to show us your boobies?
If I manage to collect more donations than Ms. M, a picture of Lefty and Tiny au naturel might be arranged.
Thanks for the welcome!
Are the sailing lessons as fun as you thought they'd be?
I very much enjoyed watching my son's lesson. As for my own, as fate would have it, the instructor teamed me up with Ms. M, and our sailing relationship closely resembled our working one.
So how about you being a guest of honour at next years barbie,
It would be my pleasure. Do you suppose we could have a "No Nookies in Nero's" theme for the barbie and all dress in our disco outfits from 1975? I'm dying to see you in an aubergine suede jacket.
Thanks to you, too, for a warm welcome.