When I was an EA near Bryant Park, I worked with a woman who was a mean girl. Her voice was fake and cloying. She had minions that would do anything for her. Miss Mean (as I will refer to her) would talk about everyone behind their backs, and try to bring down women at every level of the organization. I have met EA’s in the past who mistook themselves for their executive, and Miss Mean was one of those EA’s. If you didn’t kiss her ass your job might be in danger. I am not an ass kisser, so I was on her list.
Miss Mean lived in a Williamsburg loft and her parents paid for everything. She wore nice designer clothes, but they were always a size too small for her round frame. One day she asked me to take her to the bank and teach her how to deposit checks, and then proceeded to grab a whole years salary worth of checks out of her drawer. She was always doing things like that, things that might make someone feel small and worthless. I did not oblige.
Miss Mean and her minions would often go out to lunch together, and would never invite a few of us other EA’s in the office. I was happy to not receive an invitation, because I didn’t want to join them. I have a low tolerance for a bunch of women congregating only to speak poorly of other people.
One day I was sitting in Bryant Park on my own enjoying my lunch, and I saw Miss Mean and her minions heading towards me. Thankfully they walked right past me and didn’t acknowledge my presence. The last thing I wanted was for them to feel obligated to ask me to sit with them for lunch.
As the posse walked by, I noticed Miss Mean was bringing up the rear. That day she was wearing a black pencil skirt that was too small, and apparently a thong. I only know this as her skirt was tucked into the top of her thong and her bare ass was on display for everyone in Bryant Park to see.
I watched in horror as these thoughts went through my head:
“If I tell Miss Mean that her ass is hanging out, maybe she will see my kindness and befriend me. Maybe she will like me. Maybe she will stop bossing me around every time she comes to my desk. Maybe she will stop acting like she is better than me.”
Then I snapped out of it. What the hell was I thinking? This woman didn’t deserve my kowtowing, and certainly did not deserve my respect! So I let her walk by, and she got all the way across the lawn before she noticed that her skirt was up.
The moment she realized her skirt was up was a moment I will never forget. The look on her face, as you can imagine, was priceless. She had just flashed people for two blocks, an avenue, and the length of Bryant Park.