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    Just The Girl, Stories: Redwind Revisited (Anger Management)

    Just The Girl, Stories: Redwind Revisited

    ANGER MANAGEMENT

     

     

    I’ve heard of beating around the bush, but rather unfortunately, this woman sitting before me has no concept of that.

     

    You have a temper.”

     

    She told me that right off the bat. No frills, no colorful introductions. Nada.

     

    The lady had offered me hardly a greeting, well, aside from a plain ‘good morning’. She didn’t engage me in any small talk nor did she make an effort to start a short conversation before gently easing into the touchy topic that she wanted to discuss. By the looks of it, this woman had zero tolerance for idle banter.

     

    She went straight to the point, she was very direct. Too direct, perhaps? I happen to think so.

     

    You have a temper.”

     

    Her words reverberate inside my head like a drum.

     

    Want to know a great way to fuck up someone’s day? Tell them the truth about themselves. Works best if they’re completely in denial about it like me. I don’t have a temper, you see? None.

     

    Blindsided by the woman’s boldness, I cross my arms and avert my gaze to the mundane view outside the window, my cheeks flushing red at the bluntness of her words. Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting things to go into this direction, that’s for sure. I hate being put on the spot like this; I didn’t sign up for it and I was sure as hell not prepared. Fresh from a one-week vacation in Europe, I reported to this office thinking that I was in for yet another one of the yearly farce that Redwind requires us students to participate in – a one-on-one assessment of sorts that was designed to gauge our interest in our future careers and endeavors. This woman was supposed to ask me some stupid generic questions like: where do you see yourself ten years from now or the overused, what do you want to be when you grow up (as if we were still little kids). Her job was to tick off some boxes in her check-list and update my student file. Every year, the school would send the results to our absentee parents to keep them updated with their child’s desire to do something worthwhile with their pathetically entitled lives. I think it served as a warning of some kind, so that our parents could kick our ass before we decide to grow up to become lazy bums and live off our inheritance forever. So you see, it was my level of interest that was going to be assessed this morning, not my personality. I didn’t willingly prostrate myself to this ridiculous meeting to be humiliated. After all, hearing the truth about yourself was often humiliating – and not in any way humbling, as some have claimed. Besides, how can you possibly be humbled when humility was never part of your vocabulary – hell, your whole life for that matter? Impossible, I say.

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