When Life starts to mimic Dilbert

One of the doctors has a chronic God complex. “Give me a new, bigger office before I take another responsibility!” “Why don’t I have a new computer?!” “I want the new high tech phones!” He just doesn’t understand the concept of distribution by seniority. Or maybe it’s just a language problem. 🙂

Anyway, he unplugged his basic-model phone, threw it out and left his pager with his secretary because he allegedly did not have a phone. Like it was her fault. A classic case of adult tantrums caused by envy towards your playmates who have shinier things than you do. He made a lot of noise, created a stinking departmental issue over a stupid gadget, and now people are setting aside more important concerns to address this … nuisance.

Hamed gave a perfect solution:

If he’s not happy with the decision, then go to the Section Head. If he’s still not happy, go to the Chairman. If he still has a problem, go to the CED. If he won’t listen, then go to the King.

I can just see it:

“Your Highness, Custodian of the Two Holy Mosques, King Abdullah [prostates himself and kisses hand], I’m suffering greatly and I’m unable to do my life-saving profession because they refused to upgrade my perfectly usable but terribly uncool phone in my office, which I rarely use.”


I’d be the last person to do Pinoy-bashing, but there is an unfortunate trait shared by thousands of Filipino men who find themselves rejected by women: their main defense mechanism is taking back everything they’ve said or done. Otherwise known as “denial”, which is not a river in Egypt. (corny! haha!)

A lot of (not all) Pinoys who work in KSA somehow mutate and acquire personality disorders related to women. They develop near-stalker instincts, become annoyingly persistent while believing that they’re being cute, and forget the spelling, synonyms, and all meaning of the word NO.

I endured weeks of unwelcome phone calls–mostly unanswered–from Mr. Clueless, turned down invitations, directly refused to divulge any personal information, and the guy still doesn’t get it. He thinks he’s being swabe (suave) when he tells me for the Nth time that he won’t end the conversation if I don’t give my mobile number. Thank God for my mother who drilled diplomacy into my brain since I was a baby or else I would have said something offensive like “Hindi ko ma-take ang kajologan mo” (I can’t stand your tackiness).

Finally, when I couldn’t endure being distantly polite anymore:

Me: Maybe you should just talk to another girl.
Clueless: Bakit? (Why?)
Me: I’m taken.
C: May sinabi ba ako sa ‘yo na nililigawan kita? (Have I ever told you that I like you that way?)
Me: No, hahaha! But you should still stop calling. 😀
C: Well, if you don’t want me to call…
Me: Yes! I don’t want you to! 😀

Denial is so passé. Getting a clue usually takes two minutes, dear. Not three weeks.

I don’t deserve this. I’m not even pretty, there’s just an incredible female shortage in the girl-guy ratio. Go find a bimbo who’d welcome the attention. 🙂


2 thoughts on “When Life starts to mimic Dilbert

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