Suck-Wood Attitude

A Dear Winifred Tale

     Winifred exhaled a blue cloud of smoke and gave her secretary Bernice a scowl.  Bernice coughed and tried to wave away the swirling cloud of smoke under her nose.  Maybe it was anger with herself that seized her because of her sneaking out from Limpo's Tavern rather than face Mando Priestvent.  A black cloud of rage had been building with her for hours, and Winifred lost it.

 

     "Oh, does my cigarette bother you?  Well, by all means, take it!" she shouted, and flicked it at Bernice, where it bounced away in a shower of sparks.  Bernice stared down at where it had landed, and back up to Winifred.

 

     "That's it, I've had enough of putting up with your abuse.  You don't treat your co workers with the respect they deserve, hell, you treat them like cattle.  I quit!"

 

     "That's fine; I'm tired of trying to tap dance around your ineptitude!"

 

    Bernice stormed out, and Winifred shouted to her back, "Before you go, I'd like to give you a token of my appreciation, here!" and she raised her middle finger and waved it back and forth. 

 

     Bernice turned to look at her, smiled, and turned again to walk out the door, which totally enraged Winifred, who was charged up for a confrontation.  "Ah, screw you," she hurled at the closing door. 

 

 

     She had informed Boss Dickhead of Bernice's sudden departure, and had been told she would have to fly solo until a new secretary could be hired.  So she was having to answer her own phone for at least the rest of the day.  What a pain! 

 

 

     It was damn near quitting time and she was almost at the boiling point.  She supposed she had been a bit harsh with Bernice, but hell, she was pissed.  Still, she was starting to get a better understanding of just what Bernice had to deal with.  Just as she was rising to put on her coat and head for home, the phone rang. 

 

     "S**t-o-dear," she mumbled to herself.  With a big sigh she lifted the receiver, "Hello, the office of Winifred Downy, Winifred speaking."

 

     "Oh, Winifred huh?  Well, let me give you a big old thank you; I followed your advice about withholding sex from my husband as punishment for him calling the dinner I'd prepared charred sheep intestines, and..."

 

     "Ah, ha, ha," Winifred belly-laughed into the phone.

 

     Silence came back from the receiver.  In truth, she'd forgotten all about that letter, but she knew a good rank when she heard one. 

 

     Finally, came, "Well, how rude!"

 

     "Lady, if you think that was rude, I'm just getting warmed up!"

 

     "Click!" was the only response. 

 

 

 

     The next day Winifred arrived for work in much the same mood she'd been in the day before, bad!  She just couldn't let go of the fact she'd ducked out on Mando Priestvent, literally.  She entered her silent office, lit up a Face-Torch cigarette and slumped into her chair.  She looked with disdain at her computer in-box, and cringed.  Literally hundreds of items, most boner pill ads and the like.  She deleted everything that looked like an ad; that was another thing Bernice usually handled, but since she'd quit, she had to decide what was important.    

 

         

     The afternoon blahs hit hard.  She sat smoking; and suddenly, she had a coughing fit.  It had been happening more and more often lately.  She really should quit, but it would be tough.  She'd had the habit since she was 14, and it was engrained in her DNA.  It was part of her, like a 3rd leg.  She right then decided to tough it out and try to quit.

 

 

     Almost quitting time, and already she was going crazy without a cigarette.  She needed something to take her mind off of trying to quit, so she punched up the I Hate Winifred website.  Right away, she came across an article by none other than Mando Priestvent.  She started reading;

 

     "The other day, I arranged to meet Winifred at a nearby tavern.  I was looking forward to having a frank conversation about why she feels the need to offend all the people who write in with very-real problems they'd like her advice on, and instead of constructive advice, she gives them a hate-filled diatribe against everyone, and every thing.  Did something happen in her childhood that made her totally unpleasant?  Instead, I was told by the bar maid that she'd left abruptly, without even paying, I might add, so we didn't get to converse.  I---"

 

     The article continued on, but Winifred had seen enough.  You compete and utter s**t-chunk! she thought, and started writing her response,

 

     "To Mando Priestvent, you spurting idiot-boil, screw you and the horse you're having sex with!  For your information," at this point she needed a good reason for leaving.  "I was looking forward to setting your idiotic, totally ludicrous view of me straight, but I..." think!  'totally forgot my husband needed his boner pills, and I had to get to the pharmacy quick, as it was almost closing time," she wrote, conveniently forgetting that at the time of her bailing into the swamp land, it was only about 3pm.  She suddenly was glad she'd had to delete those fricking useless ads herself.  Otherwise, she may have had trouble coming up with such a plausible reason.  The thought that she had just thrown her husband under the bus didn't even cross her mind. She then continued typing, ripping into him but good.  Then she pushed 'send' and tried to unwind the knot in her neck,  Boy, could she use a Face-Torch about now, but damn it, no!  She would stick to her guns!

 

    

     A few days later, Priestvent's reply showed up on the website, "Okay, I was trying to be polite, but her one of her coworkers at Ink Wanderings told me that she happened to look out the office window, which also faces out back, and saw Winifred splash down in a panic after climbing out the bathroom window.  So much for Winifred's contention, so crudely put, of needing to fill a prescription for 'boner pills'  If it had been true, it would make her husband the only thing harder than her suck-wood attitude!"

 

 

     Ouch!  Winifred had just been opened up like a suitcase.  Her hands were shaking with rage as she viciously attacked the keyboard.  "Whu yop supwr-bastyrd!"  Oh no, would you look at that?  She'd better calm down a lot before attempting to reply to his bullshit attack in print.  She ignored the fact that everything he said was the truth; this couldn't be let go without an answer.  S**t, but could she use a Face-Torch about now, but no, she wouldn't give in!

 

The End