Gretchen is somewhat of a hag. She's on the steering committee, though she sticks her long thin nose into everything, sniffing out weakness and vulnerability. Yesterday she yelled at our group for laughing.
"Do you guys not have enough to do? Are things going that well?"
Of course they weren't. Our server wasn't running and I'd accidentally deleted a significant block of data. We were taking a break and making fun of Allison, in general, and of Patrick's hillbilly phrases, pure poetry with a twang; the fact that his cousin, Big John, told him that he had to vote for McCain or they'd all be slaves and sharecroppers by Christmas.
"I said to Big John, 'Dude, your ass don't like your mouth doing its job.'"
Who wouldn't laugh at this guy's homespun yammer?
Gretchen is quite possibly one of the most unattractive people I know and it has nothing to do with her physical appearance, though that is a direct reflection of her cold nasty bitter interior. She snapped at me one time 2 years ago and I regret now as I regretted then not going snakeshit on her crusty grill. It will need to be done at some point.
Gretchen is so negative that her Bad Attitude almost requires it's own nametag and seat at the table, although this didn't go over well. When things are not going smoothly she gets animated; waving her long thin angles around and yelling Blame and Doom. When things are going well, she sits all folded up, hunching, her mouth a gash of disapproval, breakfast crumbs in the corner. Dark crumbs. She has one solitary whisker that juts out from her cheek. No matter where she is standing when she talks to you, that whisker is pointing accusingly in your direction.
I overheard her say yesterday that she was going to Disneyland for Thanksgiving. I swear rather than being happy for her and rethinking my own bad attitude, I pictured the woman standing over Mickey Mouse and Goofy's lifeless bodies, the gun still smoking in her bony hand.