Little Miss Angry

Samantha Angry was a high-level exec at SmartTec Plc. Everyone knew that you didn’t cross Ms Angry, and that if you did, you’d be made to pay for it for weeks, months and years.
 
Her career was littered with people and companies who had disagreed with her, or stood up to her, that she had subsequently wreaked vengeance on in any number of ways. Some people she just cut dead, and had nothing more to do with them. Others she bad-mouthed incessantly to whoever would listen. Still other people she’d gather a dossier of information on, and then pass it on to the Powers that Be.
 
But Samantha’s main weapon was her incredibly nasty temper. As well as berating people and getting right up in their faces, Samantha was also a screamer, yeller and threatener. She always seemed to know exactly what to do or say to scare her opponent into submission, and get her own way.
 
The last few months had been pretty stressful for Samantha Angry; she’d been through a particularly nasty episode at work – clearly, all the other person’s fault – and she was also starting to feel the strain of all those 12 hour days. She decided to book a holiday to recuperate, relax, and regain her strength.
 
The Caribbean Cruise she signed up for sounded divine: she’d fly out to Jamaica, and spend a night at the most luxurious hotel in Jamaica, before boarding the cruise where she could expect a luxury cabin, 24/7 gourmet food and entertainment; three Olympic sized swimming pools; an onboard running track and gym and some stop-offs at some amazing places on the way to it’s final destination, back home. Paradise!
 
Except, that’s not exactly what happened. On the flight out, Samantha’s luggage was a couple of kilos over the limit, and the check-in clerk was being strict. When she was asked to pay the excess, Samantha got in to a long, drawn out shouting match with the clerk, (who was also an ‘interesting’ personality…) which ended up being escalated up to the manager.
 
The manager took one look at Ms Angry, one look at the massive queue forming behind her, and caved in. “Finally, these idiots are seeing some sense!” Samantha thought to herself, as she was waved through to passport control.
 
On the plane, Samantha found the seat quite squashed and uncomfortable, so she summoned the steward, and asked if she could be upgraded. She was politely declined, which made her see red. For the next five hours solid, she complained about everything she could, from the food, to the service, to the air conditioning, to the smell that was (apparently…) coming from the toilet 13 rows away. Her neighbor plugged in his earphones, and turned up the volume as high as he could take it, just to try and drown her out.
 
Low and behold, when Samantha disembarked, she spent a good hour waiting for her luggage to show up. It didn’t. As the other guests boarded the coach that was waiting to take them to the hotel, a furious Samantha was pacing up and down the arrivals lounge, yelling at one innocent Jamaican airport worker after another, and demanding to ‘speak to the manager’.
 
In Jamaica, that tactic didn’t work – they are far too laid back – so Samantha whipped out her iPhone, and sent an email to the managing director of the airport, asking them to deal with ‘this fiasco’ immediately, or they could expect a formal complaint to be made to the Jamaican Tourism Board.
 
In the meantime, the coach driver got sick of waiting for Ms Angry, and the other guests were getting frustrated, so he drove off. When Samantha came out of the airport a couple of hours’ later, she realized she’d have to shell out for a taxi to the hotel. “Great! This is another nail in their coffin…” she fumed to herself, already planning her vengeance.
 
And so it continued all holiday. The milk for her tea was never the right temperature; the other guests were rude and inconsiderate, and always ‘pushing in front of her’, or taking the very thing she was just about to grab for herself. The staff were disrespectful and belligerent, and couldn’t do anything right (at least, according to Samantha.)
 
By the end of the trip, she’d spent more time sending emails to the tour operator’s senior and middle management than she had relaxing in the pool or sightseeing. What a lousy holiday! Samantha was exhausted. She spent so much time at work dealing with all this stress and hassle, she couldn’t believe that she’d had to do it on holiday as well. She had such bad luck with her vacations; she simply couldn’t believe that after all that money and effort, she’d managed to have yet another terrible holiday.
 
What was wrong with everyone, that she was constantly having to explain and complain and escalate, and argue and yell, until things were done properly? What indeed. What do you think?
 
 
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Check out Rivka Levy’s new book The Happy Workshop based on the teachings of Rabbi Shalom Arush.