Bill is mad and he’s coming my way – fast. Try smooth talking.
“I’m really sorry about those reports, I’ll circulate them before next meeting. I thought you made a good point during the meeting about ..
“Yes well I’m very sorry you were so bloody late!” he screams at me. “Do you know how it makes me look in front of those guys when my own staff can’t even turn up to a bloody meeting on time?
It’s bloody humiliating! We’re trying to make major decisions and you think it’s OK to just turn up any time you feel like it.”
Another butt kicking in public. I remain silent. Let him talk himself out and pretend to be concerned about what he is saying.
Upon reflection, some interesting observations can be made about the contrasting approaches which Bill and I adopt toward each other’s rear end – at least metaphorically speaking.
Bill appears to prefer the use of his foot to give my butt a nice big kick. This happens when he’s upset at me, when he’s upset at someone or something else, when he needs to feel powerful or just because he feels like it.
He likes the feel of brutally thrusting his hard, tough boot into the soft, tender tissue of my bottom.
I, on the other hand, adopt a gentler, kinder approach. I use my lips to give his bottom big fat sloppy kiss.
Let me stress, I am speaking figuratively here, not literally.
Even so, this is not something I enjoy. Bill treats me like dirt. I take no pleasure in having to be unconditionally nice to a man I utterly dislike.
But I have to make sacrifices in order to survive in the corporate world.