Bitch Flag

So this was me circa mid-2000s. In case it wasn't staggeringly clear from this image, I was a pretty big bitch in my early twenties. And in my teens. And maybe even in middle school, depending on who you're asking.

Now if you've never flown your bitch flag, I can tell you that it can be fun. If you're a mean girl. Which I was. But today, I learned a big lesson... If you're not a mean girl anymore, if you're actually someone that cares about other people and their feelings, and you dust off that old bitch flag, you're going to regret it.

After months of trying to resolve an issue with our house, I got tired of having my phone calls dodged by the manager assigned to fix my task. So as I dialed his office today for the fifth time in two weeks, I decided that no matter what, I was going to speak to him.

I didn't anticipate the stubbornness of the secretary to insist she have all my information before putting me through. And she didn't anticipate our call at all.

I both won and lost this call. I won because I got what I wanted, I spoke with the manager and made plans to repair the work. I lost because I felt really, really icky afterwards. And kind of embarrassed.

For one, my bitch side was rusty. So instead of being the Amanda Woodward I had intended, I came across more as a passive-aggressive, hormonal teenager. But I also felt bad for Nina, the secretary. I was a secretary for 11 years, so I know how it feels to be on the receiving end of a call with a psychopath.

So Nina, if you read this, I'm sorry. Send me a PM so I can send you a bottle of Stress Away, because I'm sure you need it after speaking to me this afternoon.

And for all you other secretaries out there in the world, you can breathe easy. My bitch flag is going back into storage. I only want to act in a way I can be proud of. I just hope you'll follow suit.