Why Do Bad Things Always Happen to ME?!?

Okay, we all know that person. The one whose life is always in a state of emergency. She can't make to work without some drama in her life.  

You know, the girl who burns her neck with the curling iron...but somehow ends up jerking away from the curling iron...then hits her head on the shelf...then knocks herself unconscious...therefore making her 45 minutes late for work.

Or maybe she was on her way to work, and a stray dog (or cat or baboon) runs across the street. It runs directly into her path and causes her to swerve. She over-adjusts and lands in the ditch. (Well, one wheel is in the ditch...but it was STILL really scary.) She is so shaken up, she has to go back home and call her mother. Her mother then tells her that her childhood pet dog (or cat or eagle) died just 10 minutes ago. The timing is like sign from God (or the Virgin Mary or Buddah or Zeus). She is so distraught about the death of Poopsie-Pie that she will probably need to go home and be comforted...and so she just calls in sick to work for the next several days.

Sometimes there are legitimate excuses for being late for work. A good excuse—like a rouge steam-powered freight train running through your yard. It happen to her once...it was her brother's toy. Still, it scared Poopsie-Pie so bad she had to chase the dog around the neighborhood. The chase made her late for her prom. Her date actually went to the prom without her (after waiting for 45 minutes for her to come back with the dog.)

And let us not forget the time she was stalked by the cop after leaving the gas station. He even pulled her over. According to her, the cop realized he would get into trouble for stalking. He made up some lame excuse about her driving erratic, speeding, making illegal turns, wearing no seat-belt, not shutting her driver-side door, and having the gas-pump handle still stuck in her car. But, HELLO, he was stalking her and she was trying to lose him.

This is the same person who has "tardiness" issues. You purposely lie to her. You tell her the movie starts at 7:00 (when you know it really starts at 7:30) because you can guarantee she will be a minimum of 20 minutes late...and still you are lucky to catch the 9:10 showing.

She has stories about how she was mistreated as a child. Her stepfather was always screaming at her (go figure). Her mother was always mad at her (shocking). She couldn't keep friends (probably because her parents were so mean). Her boyfriends often acted as if they were going to hit her (only acted?). She was often hit on by her elementary school teachers (even the octogenarian female librarian). And once, a wild beaver (or cow or elephant) got into her yard and attempted to bite her. And there was that one time in church camp when the camp counselor locked her into a shower for 8 hours to teach her some lesson. Just because they locked the showers at bedtime and 100 other girls all had showering opportunities, it didn't mean she did!! How many other girls were attacked by a squirrel (or fire ant or duck-billed platypus) that afternoon?!?

Lord help me. There's one of these people in my life now. Things always seem to "happen" to her. She is never at fault. I have a hard time feeling pity for this person. But I don't have a hard time feeling disrespected and used. She may get a little more drama than she bargained for this time.

2 readers liked this story.
From Around the Web:
05.18.2009
Sally
I will only answer specific questions also to certain people when I ask them, or when questioned. In plain site not hidden, any assumption otherwise, is not assumed by me.
05.18.2009
Sally
I don't give them unless I can see you though
05.18.2009
Sally
Hey you can take mine???
04.20.2007
Nancy Banks
I thought at first you were talking about yourself in a round about way. But by the end it seems you are really talking about someone else. I know a girl who is just like this one you describe. In fact, her life is so nutso that she never has time to call me back or meet me when she says she will. I'm not really friends with her so much anymore. Who can deal with that?
It feels good to write.

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