The Island

I've run across a few people in my days that were exceptionally horrible. Not just bitchy or vindictive on occasion, but truly evil to the very core. I've often imagined that there was an island that I could send all of these miscreants to, where they'd be forced to choke down their own medicine 24/7. The first person (and I'm being generous by calling him a person), was my boss at a horrible job I had for about a year in 1992.

I worked for a company that sold hardware by mail. I had to fill orders, working ten hours a day in a warehouse that wasn't air-conditioned in summer or heated in winter. The floor was concrete and absolute murder on my feet, which were already tore-up and bloody from wearing Herman Munster-style safety shoes. The work was back-breaking and demoralizing.

My boss was a guy from the Middle East who was the definitive officious prick. He was the kind of guy who always looked like he'd just got a haircut. Oh yeah, and he also ironed his jeans. Add to that his bushy mustache, hardhat and general hairiness, and he looked like the leader of the Iranian Village People.

This guy was your basic asshole, elevated to banishment to the island for one incredible incident. One day, I noticed that he was clearly not up to his usual caliber of evil. I asked one of the other supervisors, "What's up with him today?"
The supervisor went on to tell me that, not only was this guy's wife in the hospital with a brain tumor, but she was being operated on that very day. This guy's wife was going under the knife and he thought it was more important to be at work than by her bedside. It still stymies me to think about the shear lack of humanity. Clearly an asshole act that I've never seen equaled.