UnNews:HR Director slowly losing it
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HR Director slowly losing it
We distort, you deride
Saturday, July 30, 2016, 22:40:UTC)(
29 May 2009
Lincoln, Nebraska - At L&N Collections Services facility for the Midwest Region, Janet Olsen has spent the past 47 days in her nine plus year career dwelling upon how satisfying it would be to kill her fellow workers. News of her upcoming 10th anniversary, expected to be celebrated with store bought cake, kool aid, a ten year pin, and a personal "Congrats!" from Regional Manager Bob "Roman Hands" Tarkenton is, if anything, adding greatly to her resolve.
A source close to her subconcious relates that Janet has been increasingly intolerant of what most of think of as "routine crap", "office politics" and "life's little curve balls", especially since her divorce last year when her husband left her and her two children to move to San Francisco with his gay lover. His subsequent habit of being perpetually late with the child support, at the same time her mortgage rate went up has not helped matters.
Nor has her company's latest pay freeze helped. Nor that her youngest (18 months) has been diagnosed with a progressive learning disability. Nor that her eldest (three years old) has ADHD and diabetes. Nor that all the office guys think that she's easy because she went out one time with Bruce from Accounts Receivable and while saying "good night" at the door, he told everyone he had breakfast at her place. Nor that no matter how many community events, corporate cook outs, or church socials she goes to, no good man wants to raise another man's kids.
Currently, in this day 47 of her homicidal dwellings, she is remembering the feel of her ex's Mossberg Persuader that he left behind. How the pistol grip fits so neatly into her hand. How the smooth metal barrel rests so comfortably in her other hand. How just darn 'persuasive' it looks when she aims it at the mirror in the bathroom for hours. How she calls out "Mommy's busy, honey, go watch Sponge Bob with your sister" without even turning her head when Ethan cries "want mama" outside the door.
Her video store clerk will have recalled - three weeks from now when she is brought down in a hail of gunfire by local authorities - that her video rentals had actually told the tale. "She used to just rent cheesy stuff like 'Bridget Jone's Diary' and other chick flick crap, and some kiddie stuff" will say Rick Granger, Assistant Manager Trainee for Blockbuster Video. "But the past three months it was nothing but Charles Bronson, Sly Stallone and Chuck Norris. Mostly the eighties stuff about how 'one angry man fights back'. I figured that maybe that fag who left her had grown some balls and come back. Guess not."
The police will have discovered her diary then, while mourning the loss of two of Lincoln's finest, and read of what led up to the horrific carnage. Entries will have revealed that the not-quite-yet-exploding-in-mindless-rage Janet had sat at her desk and smiled often, while playing her own little frightening game. She will have been assigning points to her co-workers, and whoever will have scored the most will have been the first shot. A comment about the weather will have been one point, any reference to Monday sucking will have been two points, calling Wednesday 'hump day' will have been three points, looking down her open blouse or at her nylon clad legs will have been four points, and commenting on her obviously munificent physical charms will have been five points.
But any comment at all involving any variation of being glad that Friday is near or here will have been twenty points.
However, Mr. Tarkenton's grope of her ass when he uninvitedly hugged her at last year's Christmas party will have earned him her special "first to go" spot. As indeed he will have been.
Meanwhile, at day 47, and still three weeks before her merciless rampage that will have claimed the lives of eleven employees and two policeman, her sunny grin widens a bit in contemplation at the thought of getting to learn whether the back spray of blood onto the wall behind someone when you gut shoot them is really as dramatically splashy as in the movies. (It will have been!)
Soon she will go home to pose in front of the bathroom mirror with the Mossberg again, feeling the coolness of the blued steel warming under her manicured hands. But first she'll go to the local store and buy a couple of handguns, plenty of ammo, another shot gun to strap to her back and a camoflauge outfit.
She'll be thinking that it's remarkable what one can afford when one knows one is not long for this world. Not paying the house payment, forgoing the utility payments...she realizes she has but three more weeks before services are disconnected, car repossesed, house foreclosed on...she thinks about the kids and grins at the thought of her ex having to come get them. Let him wipe drool and asses each evening and see how he likes it! She will be ruefully laughing at how her life insurance has already lapsed, and wouldn't pay out for this anyway.
She'll buy combat boots, too, and that makeup for the face stripes. She thinks that's all silly, but figures that they do it that way in the movies for a reason. Besides, she giggles to herself...it's so corny it'll actually be kind of scary! What will they think? Ahh, well, whatever they think, they won't think it for long!
Still smiling, Janet leaves for the day. At least it's Friday!