An Epic Tale of Tragedy and ...Tragedy
Sep. 28th, 2008 11:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fuzzybluemonkeys
I wrote most of this out on post-it notes during work, but never got around to typing it up.
Let me tell you the tale of how I ended up with an ugly-ass purse.
There is overly complex backstory.
Once upon a time, there was a librarian who was diagnosed with cancer (this story doesn't have a happy ending, folks). By all accounts, she was a very nice person, so this is sad, but I never met the woman, so I can't say I was particularly broken up about it.
However, when this happened, Man, the most annoying co-worker in all the land, became obsessed with her and the details of her ongoing condition, estate, and who knows what else. Now, in most instances, I'd assume someone reacting this way was really close friend with the ailing librarian, but because this is Man, it's entirely possible that he was just being his usual weird/creepy/nosy self. My personal theory is that he knew her, but not well enough to be all up in her business like that.
Anyway, time passes, the librarian dies, people are sad. Her family admirably decides to donate her belongings to charity, but first they offer her books (and apparently other things) to her friends? People who knew her? The library community? I don't know who they intended to give it to, but Man invites me to come with him on Tuesday, when he goes to her apartment to look for books. I decline because it seems sorta weird to raid a dead woman's apartment, and I didn't even know her, so it's not like she would have wanted me to have her stuff or something. Also, he informs me of the charity bit, so it's not like I need to save things from a landfill.
Soooo, all this roundabout finally gets to the point where Man goes to her apartment supposedly looking for books and comes back with a purse. That he proceeds to give to me. I pretty much flat out tell him I don't want it, but he's all "You can give it to someone else." You know what I did with the damn thing yesterday? I gave it to mom so she can donate it to Purple Heart. In other words, it's going to charity, which is what would have happened to it if he had just left it in the dead lady's apartment. Instead, he had to make it my problem and give me a creepy death purse.
You might argue that I'm being a bitch here and Man was just being kind and thoughtful, but you know what? Anyone actually thinking of me while looking at that purse would be thinking, "Nicole would never ever use that ever." I mean, anyone who's known me for more than five minutes would be able to figure out that I would not be interested in a white faux-leather old lady handbag. And the kind thing to do would be to keep it far away from me.
Let me tell you the tale of how I ended up with an ugly-ass purse.
There is overly complex backstory.
Once upon a time, there was a librarian who was diagnosed with cancer (this story doesn't have a happy ending, folks). By all accounts, she was a very nice person, so this is sad, but I never met the woman, so I can't say I was particularly broken up about it.
However, when this happened, Man, the most annoying co-worker in all the land, became obsessed with her and the details of her ongoing condition, estate, and who knows what else. Now, in most instances, I'd assume someone reacting this way was really close friend with the ailing librarian, but because this is Man, it's entirely possible that he was just being his usual weird/creepy/nosy self. My personal theory is that he knew her, but not well enough to be all up in her business like that.
Anyway, time passes, the librarian dies, people are sad. Her family admirably decides to donate her belongings to charity, but first they offer her books (and apparently other things) to her friends? People who knew her? The library community? I don't know who they intended to give it to, but Man invites me to come with him on Tuesday, when he goes to her apartment to look for books. I decline because it seems sorta weird to raid a dead woman's apartment, and I didn't even know her, so it's not like she would have wanted me to have her stuff or something. Also, he informs me of the charity bit, so it's not like I need to save things from a landfill.
Soooo, all this roundabout finally gets to the point where Man goes to her apartment supposedly looking for books and comes back with a purse. That he proceeds to give to me. I pretty much flat out tell him I don't want it, but he's all "You can give it to someone else." You know what I did with the damn thing yesterday? I gave it to mom so she can donate it to Purple Heart. In other words, it's going to charity, which is what would have happened to it if he had just left it in the dead lady's apartment. Instead, he had to make it my problem and give me a creepy death purse.
You might argue that I'm being a bitch here and Man was just being kind and thoughtful, but you know what? Anyone actually thinking of me while looking at that purse would be thinking, "Nicole would never ever use that ever." I mean, anyone who's known me for more than five minutes would be able to figure out that I would not be interested in a white faux-leather old lady handbag. And the kind thing to do would be to keep it far away from me.
