|How do you handle a supervisor's twisted reality?|
"Why would he break the printer?" I asked, not believing her.
"Well, you jammed the printer with your airline tickets," she explained.
"Hold on," I interjected. It had been so nice not being around her and her shenanigans. "How did I jam the printer when I wasn't even here?"
She glared at me as if the answer was so obvious she shouldn't have to waste her precious time explaining it to me. "I was trying to print something by pressing 'p' like you told me, but nothing came out, so I kept pressing it."
"Actually, it's 'control p' and you only need to press it once," I explained for the thousandth time.
"I kept going to the printer, but no paper was coming out, so I went back to my computer, told it to print again, but still nothing worked. Then that lady from recreation appeared and opened up the printer. That is how we found your airline tickets. They were jamming the printer and preventing me from printing my work."
"They were not my airline tickets," I stated emphatically. I don't need her circulating this ridiculous story of blame.
"If they weren't yours, then why did they print when I pressed 'p' like you told me?" she stated, as if she were stating logical insight.
"Because someone else was also printing!" I scolded her. "It's a printer for this entire area. Maybe the tickets were for the person in recreation and that is why she also went to the printer!"
"Yes, they were hers," the supervisor continued without missing a beat. "But I told her to be careful because you were trying to steal them."
"What? You told another employee that I was trying to steal their plane tickets? Why would you do that?" I was really pissed.
"Because the tickets appeared when I pressed the button you wanted me to press, but they were messed up so she couldn't use them and you could get them," she continued without any hesitation. She wasn't grasping at straws. This entire story made complete sense in her birdbrain.
I stood there, staring at her. I have no idea what to do with this woman. "So how did the doctor break the printer?"
"Oh, well, when the lady from recreation opened the printer and found the tickets you were trying to steal, the doctor came along and saw that we were having trouble. I didn't know he was a doctor. I mean, he has tattoos. Only criminals have tattoos. He said he could help and he started taking apart the printer. I ran. What kind of a doctor has tattoos and takes apart machines? I called the computer lady right away and told her that the new doctor was breaking the printer."
She turns a non-event into a crime. I spend more time fending off this ridiculousness than I do working.