squeaky wheels…

i posted this on fb earlier, but thought maybe i should repost it here and maybe, just maybe, i’ll be inspired to start blogging again…

snapshot: profoundly annoying, bad face-lifted, barbara walters look-alike at the US embassy going on and on about the appointment she insists her very efficient secretary made for her, but which is not reflecting on the embassy list. “i’m not computer-literate,” she says, “but my secretary is!”

at the door (where she snaps at the guard touching her to encourage her to move out of the way), she asks where i’ve parked – and says that even without a parking pass she “insisted” on parking in the embassy lot (i, btw, sweet-talked the guy into letting me park). she asks if i’m american, then nods approvingly. “yeah, we’re bolshy that way!” she proclaims smugly (though, like me, her slipping accent reveals that she was born in south africa). she’s small, but with a leonine sense of entitlement to match the color and the size of her hair – except of course, where her roots have grown out. 

she’s creating so much noise pollution, taking over the smallstrip of waiting room, that everyone else starts to side-eye one another. one man, visibly annoyed, grabs his wife’s reader’s digest and shuffles off, in vain trying to escape the range of her all-encompassing self-importance. another woman who has finished her embassy business, breathes a huge sigh of relief and tosses me a look of pity as she exits hurriedly. it takes everything i have to not yell at Madam-I’m-More-Important-Than-You to JUST SHUT UP! 

but i’m well-bred. i contain myself. i have an appointment, but she manages to get her paperwork taken care of before mine. even at the american embassy. guess the squeaky wheel does get the grease… or if your sense of entitlement is large enough, you can steamroller others into getting everything your way.

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