The Pony Tail

I was in a meeting recently and it was announced, well, mentioned, well, referred to that that my least favourite HR person was leaving immanently on parental leave. (In August)

I call her The PonyTail. She always wears her hair sado masochistically pulled back into a severe ponytail, and I could always tell how much of a pain in the arse she was about to be, as she walked towards me, by the intensity of the swing of the pony tail as she approached.

Firstly, I was surprised, she was pregnant at all. I have been in meetings with her, but they have been zoom meetings for the last year, of course, and they are only from the waist up. And I was surprised as she must be over 40 and I presumed, without giving it too much thought, that she was a professional pain in the arse, working woman who'd forgone children for a career. I sneakily looked up her age, she is 39. I guess the reproductive bell is clanking loudly in her ears.

When I had terrible thoughts about what she could give birth to, a Labrador puppy, something green, perhaps a mass of hair. (I'd love to be a fly on the wall when the doctor presents her with a mass of hair wrapped up in swaddling blankets) Maybe, what could happen when she gave birth, sundry tearing, ripping, bleeding, splitting, squelching. It all made me smile. Perhaps I could get one of those dolls, and a box of pins… *

Then, I thought maybe it is time I got a new job? Or, at least, a new hobby. Stop thinking about your lessers. 

I decided the best thing I could think was that she goes on parental leave and never comes back. End of thoughts.

* Oh yes, I know that is terrible, but I can say it because I am gay, and this is just gay humour. We can say stuff like the miserable bitch bled from the snatch (male, or female) because we put a gay, voodoo, gypsy curse on her, sure we can. Some slag that crossed us left a trail of blood right the way across Kmart, maybe even bits of foetus, oh yes, us gays find that hysterical. The bitch had it coming.

But, of course, I don't want the boges amoungst us to think that is any way to treat women, oh no, no, no, Nigel and Gav, do as I do, not as I say, you piles of unrestrained man meat. Unless of course it is again some HR slag... ha, ha, ha, there is that damn gay humour again.