Getting on with the faculty and staff of the Harvard Evolutionary Biology/ Comparative Zoology/ Herbarium has been a trying experience. To say that it has been like climbing Mount Everest with no pants on would sadly understate the efforts I have been making to not let the bastards get me down.
Mentally and emotionally, I've seen better days. But I've never once let them see it. I can handle the condescension. I can take the patronizing, and the insincerity. But god damn it, when I say good morning, I demand that my presence is acknowledged because I am a human being!
Since I started this assignment, despite all of my best efforts to be the most mirthful bundle of joviality ever to wander the Science buildings, this one dude has been determined to bring me down, Bruce-style. His desk is the first one I pass when I walk into the office, and every morning, he refuses to begrudge me even the slightest utterance that would signify I was anything other than a passing wind. At first, I thought the guy was autistic, or had Asperger's Syndrome at the very least, but then I noticed that he got along famously with everyone else: the secretary, the mail guy, the janitor, the new girl--
Clearly, I was dealing with a racist.
First Week:
Me: Good morning! What a glorious day! Gosh, there is nothing like Harvard in the Fall, don't you think?
Cranky Pants: ...
Me: I mean, it is awful chilly, but what it lacks in degrees, surely, it makes up for in spectacle. Wouldn't you say?
Cranky Pants: ...
Me: Well, it's been nice chatting with you. Have a terrific day!
Week the Second:
CP: ...
Me: And a good morning to you, sir! How does the day find you? Well, I trust.
CP: ...
Me: Look, is there anything I can do to help you today? Truly, nothing would bring me more singular joy than to do some work for you, you, you.
CP: ...
Me: Well, alrighty then. You know where to find me if you have any need of my services! I assure you I am more than qualified to make your workload lighter!
Hours later, he sends someone into my corner of the office with a task for me to complete, successfully bossing me around without actually having to acknowledge that I exist.
Final Week:
Me: Top o' the mornin'! I took that work home with me over the weekend and put it all into an Excel spreadsheet for your convenience. So, essentially, I've saved you hours of senseless work! Go me!
CP: ...
Me: No please, thanks is not necessary. It was really my pleasure to help. Now, if you could just give me your email address so that I can email you the file, that would be splendid. Here, I will slide this paper underneath your already-moving pen so that you will have as little interaction with me as possible. No eye contact!
CP: *Writes email address*
Me: Awesome-town! Rainbows and moonbeams and unicorns!
Wouldn't you know that the very next day, he fucking came and thanked me for going the extra mile? And he even called me by name! PWND!!!!! Then in the spirit of understanding and acceptance and all that is nice, I apologized on behalf of all people of Nordic descent for our Viking ancestors sacking the village of his less virile, weak-chinned, non-athletically-inclined ancestors.
Overall, this proves two hypotheses that I've had: 1.) You can't hate on a girl with a side ponytail, and 2.) Excel spreadsheets bring all people together.
Somebody let the Reverend Al Sharpton know.
