Spawn of Satan

I knew going into my new job there was no guarantee I going to get along with all of my coworkers. I quickly learned that folks with a common ground, a passion for people, could still be complete opposites. If being in the food service industry has taught me only one thing, it’s how to be friendly and mannerly. This seemed to be the norm among my newly formed group of coworkers.

Then…there are the people we call “cancer.” The ones that like to suck the fun right out of everything. Every time they open their mouths you cringe and grip your fists in small fits of anger and disgust. If you weren’t using all your strength to bite your tongue, you’d probably hit them. Nothing, and no one, is ever good enough, everyone gets on their nerves, they always have to be right, and the moment they find the chance to rat you out to your superiors, they’re taking it.

It didn’t take long before I realized there was cancer among our harmonized group. Hate is a strong word and I try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, but I soon decided that Melanie would be better represented if everyone just called her Satan. If everything we were taught about the angel-turned-devil is right, then we know Satan is deceiving and is an expert in making “bad” look so “good.”

Melanie is an attractive young mother. She has a slim, petite figure, highlighted shoulder-length hair, and a nose ring that says she just isn’t ready to cross over into adulthood yet. At first glance you might mistake her for a nice person, someone you could really be BFF’s with, but it isn’t until she starts talking that you realize you’ve been played for a fool.

One day after work, I decided to have a drink at the bar with another coworker and a regular, Rob. I’ll be quick to admit that Rob is a rather handsome guy. After some idle chit chat, I found out he and I had a thing or two in common, including our zodiac signs (that’s always a real biggie). It only took a day or two for Melanie to find out I had a crush on Rob.

“He’s stayed over at my house, you know,” she said with a smug grin. All I could do was tilt my head while grinding my teeth. Had I known he was a friend of hers, I would have gracefully left him alone and spared myself some drama.

“No, I didn’t know.” I managed to force a smile and act like it didn’t bother me that she had gotten to him first. “Rob’s a great guy, real nice,” I trailed with a nod, hoping not to get into details.

But I did, and a lot of them, too. Not only did I get details, but I listened to her brag, and I watched her smirk. She was completely thrilled with making me miserable. Every word that came out of her mouth was a carefully sharpened knife that wedged itself into various parts of my body (she’d have to be a friend first to actually be able to stab me in the back). I did appreciate her efforts; after all, it appeared like she was just letting me know that I was about to overstep my boundaries on her territory, which any lust-stricken female would have done, but without tact.

Now, imagine this situation with 29 other employees. She doesn’t know how to politely tell someone there is a problem; instead she does it in an intentionally vindictive manner. I try not to hate anyone and I’m not a mean person, but Melanie makes it hard for me to resist doing very violent things to her whenever she’s nearby.

There is always one Satan in every group and the best way to deal with them is to remember: they were placed in your life as a test of your character; take a few deep breaths, smile, and don’t let them come out on top