In which annoyance passes and delight arrives
This morning I wrote an angry email. To someone who has done me wrong. Done me wrong in at least two ways. And now, a third.
In buying this apartment, I worked with many people. Some more competent, some less. But this particular person was in charge of the majority of the paperwork and timeline. And is responsible for 1) much of the work not starting until three days before closing (despite having 4 months to complete it and it being scheduled to be a three month process); 2) sending me out looking for a printer at 11pm in suburban France because she needed a wet signature on something that actually later turned out to not be wet signature; and 3) now needing me to do something after closing that both isn’t my job and exposes me to liability, but which I need to have happen since it’s my money on the line.
So I wrote an angry email. An appropriately angry email. Not one filled with emotion. One that tells her that I don’t accept this scenario and if needed I will find someone else, higher up on her team to fix it.
This got me thinking about the recent social shaming of people who ask to speak to managers.
In many of our commercial situations, it’s one of the few powers that individuals do have. In my case, it’s a large national bank where someone’s screwed up thrice, but I’ve had to be nice and cheery and pleasant about it because I needed their future cooperation. But now, that deal is complete. I don’t need her positivity: I need her to solve this.
How much of our recent social shaming of Karens is an implicit political backhand slapping of assertive women? I’ve never thought it appropriate to shame that function. (Entitledment, sure. But that doesn’t strike me as the main element of a Karen.)
I’ve never respected any generalized term that uses a person’s name as a metonymy. (Karen; Chad; more recently, Kyle.) They tend to engage in the bad type of stereotyping.
This is to say I don’t mind behaving in a manner that others might describe as Karenly.
So tonight, I sleep. And tomorrow, maybe I send.
It’s no fun to be done with a thing and then be told you’re not done.
—
Tonight I hosted a superbowl party. I love the superbowl. It’s the most patriotic I get every year. Football, advertising, halftime show: there’s something for everybody.
I created a little gambling game. My partner and I made nachos. We used the event as an excuse to get cake.
It’s nice to live somewhere.
I look forward to building community.
Julian Wise 